


12 | Forever yours

by ELC01



Series: It’s you [12]
Category: Harry Styles (Fandom), Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ELC01/pseuds/ELC01
Summary: With such a magnetic attraction, they could afford to wait for their perfect moment.So, when the time is right, Harry and Eloise finally get to embark on something magical together.Navigating their blossoming relationship through tours and a burgeoning new career, the hiatus and new directions, they experience all manner of highs and lows.They'll face revelations and illnesses, break ups and make ups, weddings and anniversaries. But whose?>Twelfth in a series of interconnected select moments, exploring the developing relationship between Harry and Eloise.This twelfth instalment takes place in September 2019, picking up right after all the events of the preceding chapters:'1 | Back to you (Prologue)'‘2 | You, again’‘3 | You & I’‘4 | You with me’'5 | You without me''6 | Back to you'‘7 | Adore you’‘8 | Only you’‘9 | All yours’'10 | With you'’11 | You’re it’.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Series: It’s you [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528811
Comments: 15
Kudos: 29





	1. Part A

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended as an exercise in character development and descriptive writing. Any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Harry features heavily - because he's incredibly charismatic and so talented - but I feel a little out of my comfort zone writing RFC, so will be mindful to be as respectful as possible.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no links to Harry or any of his associates. Rather, I am just borrowing him and them as familiar points of reference for not-for-profit artistic license.

16th September 2019

"What about cufflinks, babe?", Eloise singsongs to Harry as he walks back into the kitchen.

Twisting to eyeball him, she just catches him mouth a curse before promptly spinning on his heel to head back upstairs.

Grinning smugly, as she turns back to the leather holdall she's been trying to zip closed, she catches Anne smirking into her cup of tea at the island and they share a knowing giggle.

When he jogs back down again, Harry snatches the list from in front of his mum before she can even open her mouth. "Oh, for God's sake, just give it here", he sasses, brow furrowing as he combs over it himself before promptly heading back upstairs again, muttering under his breath.

If either of them should be disorganised and running around like a headless chicken, by rights, it should be Eloise.

Only having finished shooting season three of Killing Eve on Friday afternoon, she'd left the wrap party after just one drink and has barely sat down since.

It's been a whirlwind weekend, for sure; with a trip to the hairdresser, a manicure and pedicure, picking up favours for her bridesmaids, collecting her veil and shoes, some hasty shopping, and then frantic packing, packing, packing.

And Harry's been hard at it too; buying cases of their favourite spirits, sneakily collecting gifts, curating playlists... But, evidently, perhaps with a little less time and rigour packing.

>

In fact, the whole summer had passed equally in a blur. They'd been in London throughout, but both incredibly busy.

Eloise had been embroiled in pre-production for Killing Eve, then shooting the first block of filming from mid-July; mostly in London, but with a few trips to Barcelona and Romania too.

Harry juggled endless meetings, planning for the album's release - promotion and marketing plans, tour scheduling, merchandising; plus some early interviews and photoshoots too. It's safe to say they're going all out for the new album; Columbia is super excited.

In early August, he'd travelled to Cancun, Mexico, to shoot the video for the first single, Lights Up.

Then, after a pit-stop in New York for yet more meetings, he hadn't been in London for long before flying up to Scotland at the end of the month. There they shot the video for Adore You, the second single, in a little fishing village just east of Edinburgh.

Besides work commitments, it had seemed like their every other waking moment was dominated with house renovation or decorating chatter and decisions needed, or else, wedding planning. 

>

Needless to say, Emma, Harry's assistant, had been a godsend.

Hannah too - Eloise's shiny new assistant.

Feeling overwhelmed at juggling quite so much, she'd finally succumbed to mounting pressure from both Harry and her agent, Charles, but struck gold in Hannah.

A few years older than her, she's not only experienced and great at her job, but pretty much un-ruffle-able, as much as Eloise can tell so far, and fast becoming a firm and trusted friend too.

Their parents and Gemma have all been incredibly helpful too, stepping in when they'd been away or working all hours.

Anne headed back down to London a couple of days ago, just to lend a hand, before she's due to fly out, with Gemma and Michal, on Friday morning.

As an added bonus, she'll be staying at the house for the rest of the week, so can bring anything they might, inevitably, overlook.

"Passports?", she asks, stepping out the ever-joyful pink front door.

"Yes!", they both answer in stereo as she passes Eloise both her handbag and Harry's phones and wallet, given he's still busy trying to squeeze as much into the backseat as possible.

The Range Rover is already packed to the gunnels. With a speaker, guitar, amp, mics and stands, and a pile of cables and adaptors, plus crates of booze, the boot is already full to bursting.

They have a very special guest lined up to perform a song close to their hearts for their first dance, and Harry didn't want to risk inadvertently foisting them off with sub-par equipment, so he insists on taking some of his own.

Suitcases, holdalls and garment bags fill the back seat, with both footwells stacked with boxes full of documents - guest lists and photos, and the printed orders of service, menus, welcome letters and NDAs aplenty.

"Right, well what else can I do, whilst you're on the road?", Anne asks Eloise, perched in the front passenger seat, programming the sat-nav.

"Umm, would you mind just double-checking the RSVPs to the email address again? And, with fresher eyes, checking they've all returned the initial NDAs too? If you can then message one of us a list of anything still pending, we can chase them up via text whilst we're on the road".

In no mean feat, they'd whittled the guest list right down, ending up at about one hundred and sixty.

With discretion and security paramount, and, not least, the maximum occupancy of the hotel, they'd had to be fairly ruthless.

It'll just be family, their closest friends and inner circle, and trusted work contacts who have genuinely become proper friends, plus just a handful of other friends whom they agreed they would have felt terrible to bump into afterwards then have to awkwardly tell them all about it.

Everyone else will find out afterwards, and will just have to understand.

But, as a conciliatory gesture, they have already agreed to plan a big party in London, just before Christmas, to celebrate with everyone else. And they'll probably do something similar in LA in the New Year.

As Eloise rounds the bonnet again after dashing inside to grab some waters for the journey, Harry finally manages to close the boot.

"Right...!", he rubs his hands together, grinning as he spins to face her. "Shall we go and get married then?!". His playful nonchalance is offset by the intent look in his eyes as he smoothly hooks one hand around her waist to tug her closer, planting the other on her jaw and kissing her hotly.

Playfully shoving him off, she shrugs, feigning indifference. "Oh, alright then! Nothing else on this week... May as well".

His slap to her bum, for the cheek, has her skipping into Anne's embrace with a laugh.

He follows suit before joining her in the car and buckling up.

Through her open window, Anne calls out, "Drive carefully now! And make sure you take breaks often enough".

"Yeah, yeah, alright mum... We'll see you in a couple of days!", Harry blows her a kiss.

"Ooh...!", she flags him down again before he can pull out the gate. "And you're sure you've got the rings?".

"Now they were the first thing I packed, trust me!", he grins, dimples on show.

>

Despite hitting the last of the Monday morning rush hour traffic skirting London, they make it down the M20 to Folkestone in just under two hours.

After just a ten minute wait, they pull into one of the front carriages and are surprised to find they end up having it to themselves.

They chose to take the Eurotunnel to France for a few reasons, but, with a tonne of luggage between them, they knew they'd attract unwanted attention at the airports at either end, so figured driving would afford them the best chance of arriving at their destination incognito and with the purpose of their trip firmly under wraps.

To keep things quiet, they've had to tread incredibly carefully, issuing non-disclosure agreements and social media embargoes to the venue and all the suppliers, and even to each of the guests, too. It hadn't felt enormously romantic, but, pragmatically, it was entirely necessary.

Time will tell if they manage to stay under the radar, but they're certainly enjoying the road trip so far.

They've goofed around, chatting, singing and dancing in their seats; generally feeling excitable and full of beans. Hmm, whatever for?

Making the most of their shadowy, enclosed carriage, things get a little frisky.

When Harry gets out to swap with Eloise, he promptly tugs her straight back on to his lap in the passenger seat, and they spend the rest of the journey shamelessly making out like lovesick teenagers at the back of a darkened cinema.

>

After driving three hours through France, they swap again after a quick break at a service station. 

By the time Eloise returns from the toilets, grumbling about having had to pop a squat and piss in a hole in the ground, Harry's already back in the driving seat.

Sneakily, he surprises her with a small detour, south of Reims, via Épernay, to stock up on some cases of champagne at Moët & Chandon. He'd called ahead to order her favourite - the Dom Perignon demi-sec.

After managing to shoehorn them into the already full-to-bursting car, it's another five hours, via Dijon, before they cross the border, before Lyon, into Switzerland.

When Eloise pulls into the Four Seasons hotel on the banks of Lake Geneva, it's after 11pm.

It's further into the city centre than intended, but they'd been swayed by the promise of 24/7 security patrols in the underground car park.

They both swan-dive into the plush feather duvet and promptly fall asleep before they can even undress.

>  
>

17th September 2019

Having snatched a short yet far comfier sleep than either would have managed in the car had they driven through the night, Harry eventually manages to rouse Eloise - with gentle hands, whispered words, and the promise of breakfast already on its way.

After indulging in a quick but enjoyable picnic, sprawled on the super king bed in bathrobes, they weave an efficient dance around each other to quickly shower and get ready.

Equally caffeinated and fuelled up, they're back on the road before 5.15am.

It's an impressive start, but they'll still be cutting it a little fine, and hope the traffic gods shine down on them.

They have a ten-hour drive ahead of them, and an appointment they can't afford to miss.

No pressure.

>

Climbing over the Alps and past Chamonix - they realise they've never skied together and resolve to rectify that over the winter - the long and pin-straight Tunnel du Mont-Blanc spits them out into Italy.

Dropping down from the mountains, they hit Milan by 9.30am.

After another quick break, and with Eloise now behind the wheel, they take in Parma and Bologna before arriving in Florence, bang at 1pm.

Despite making good progress, they only have time for a quick stop to grab a pizza for lunch, with Harry then fussing all the while over greasy fingers and the buttery soft leather of his new Range Rover.

Then, attempting to beat the Italians at their own game, he manages to get them to Rome in just under three hours. And he complains about her lead foot?

>

With just enough time to park and check-in at their favourite Hotel de la Ville, they ask the concierge to arrange a car for them.

Even contending with the Roman rush hour and some frankly ludicrous driving, they arrive at the British Embassy with a whole twelve minutes to spare.

They're ushered into the British Consulate General's office for an interview to obtain their Nulla Osta - the local authorisation required for foreign and non-resident nationals to wed in Italy. It also means their union will be considered legally binding in the UK too, without the need for a second ceremony at a registry office.

It all proves incredibly straight-forward - just answering a few questions, handing over their documents for copies to be made, and signing some forms. Even with a couple of additional signatures and photos than most couples would be asked for, they're in and out with remarkably little fuss.

"Looks like this is happening then?", Harry grins at Eloise as he opens the car door for her as they head back to the hotel.

"You bet!", she can't resist pecking those irresistible lips before sliding into the car.

>

Settling into their suite for the last hour, they're now showered, enrobed and curled up on red and cream striped sofa on their private terrace, when there's a knock at the door.

Agreeing they should maintain a low profile, their second brush with room service is a notably more glamorous affair than their pre-5am breakfast.

Supping on fresh lobster and crab linguine, washed down with perfectly chilled champagne, they snuggle up and watch the sun start to set over Rome's beautiful Borghese Gardens.

Both in digestion mode, Eloise lets out a groan as she twists to bend her legs up over his lap. "Oh, God! Food baby, look...", she laughs, dropping a hand to her slightly distended stomach and rubbing gently. "I really shouldn't have eaten that... I'm a terrible bride-to-be! Alessandro will give me a world of grief tomorrow if I can't squeeze into my dress".

Harry chuckles and swats her hand away to rub his over her tummy, slipping into her hotel robe. "No, don't! It's gross... I'm an animal!", she tries to squirm away, but he just wraps his arms more tightly around her, groaning when she accidentally elbows him in the stomach.

Settling down again, he interrupts their blissfully contented silence, first tipping his chin up to gesture out to the beautiful view of the last of the sunset in front of them. "Not a bad start, hey?", he whispers lowly, fingers dipping playfully under her robe and up the expanse of her thigh.

With her long legs draped enticingly over his lap, any resistance would have been futile. He thinks he's done well to hold out as long as he has, to be fair.

"I'd say perfect, actually", she lolls her head on his shoulder and beams up at him.

Lifting a hand to the corner of his jaw, she rakes her nails over his stubble before trailing her fingers up into his hair. It's almost dry after his shower and positively wild, with floofy curls sticking up in every direction. It's irresistible. He's irresistible.

Their locked gazes are equally moony. Sparkling sapphires and ebullient emeralds; somehow both outshining the diamonds on her finger.

"This time next week you'll be my husband", she whispers dreamily, still not quite able to believe it.

His megawatt smile pulls into a laugh of disbelief; glassy eyes crinkling. "We'll have been married for five hours already!".

Suddenly sliding his hand all the way up her thigh, he grabs her hip and tugs her around to straddle his lap, making her gasp at the sudden reorientation.

"...By this time next week, I reckon I'll have already tried my luck sneaking my hot wife away for a quickie", he grins, leaning forward to lathe kisses down her neck, nosing shamelessly into the loosened collar of her bathrobe.

"Fancy making the most of that double bathtub?". He reluctantly pulls back, but smiles wolfishly, "All this talk of marriage and a smoking hot wife and I'm suddenly not at all tired".

>  
>

18th September 2019

Enjoying a very well-deserved lie-in after their epic drive, they're on a far more relaxed schedule on Wednesday morning.

Indulging in a late breakfast at the empty rooftop terrace restaurant , they soak up the perfect Autumn sunshine before eventually packing up and checking out.

Heading across the city, they arrive at Alessandro's atelier for their final fittings.

After catching up with him over coffee, they reluctantly part, banished to different ends of the studio, with the glass walls covered up with drapes to avoid any inadvertent sneak peeks.

His team have done a phenomenal job finishing her dress, and she marvels at the details up close for a good fifteen minutes before trying it on.

To her relief, it fits like a glove.

She's lucky; she'd been training hard throughout filming again, to keep on top of all her stunt work, so hadn't felt any particular pressure to crash diet for her big day, like so many other brides seem to.

Mind you, she'll need to avoid indulging in too many meals like last night's seafood carb-fest if she's to still be able to squeeze into it in six days time.

Harry's fitting is a little less straightforward. He'd been hitting the gym and boxing ring hard, and is undoubtedly in the best shape of his life.

So much so, his suit jacket is now a little tight across the shoulders, however, Alessandro reassures him they can let out the seams a little in the next couple of days. No problem.

With beaming smiles and effusive thanks, they say their goodbyes, for now.

>

After a final three hour drive, through Naples and skirting around Mount Vesuvius and then some frankly bum-clenching hairpin bends, they drop down to arrive at their destination.

Maiori, just up the coast from Amalfi.

Twenty-three hours on the road and 1,350 miles?

All more than worth it for that view and the warmest of welcomes.

After so long in the car, they're both more than a little rumpled, and not feeling terribly fresh. His white pinstriped linen trousers are terribly creased, and her white t-shirt has a slight orange juice stain from breakfast this morning. Oops.

But it doesn't put off their exuberant hosts. Flocking out the front door and down the steps, they greet them on the drive as they're still mid-stretch, having literally just stepped out of the car.

The Palazzo's grand, golden stone facade appears to glow in the low sunlight, and the owners summon a couple of bellboys before excitedly ushering Harry and Eloise inside like long-lost family, heading straight up to the rooftop terrace.

Rounding the curved, grand stone staircase, it's just as magical as they remembered. Turning at the top, they both gasp and Harry sweeps Eloise tightly into his arms as they drink in the stunning vista before them.

The pop of a champagne cork rouses them from their enraptured whispering, giggling and kissing, and they're ushered over to the best seat in the house, set with four places.

If the view and exceptional restoration work convinced them the hotel would provide the perfect venue, the charming owners were the cherry on top. Being able to book it out exclusively, to ensure their privacy, only sealed the deal. 

Isabella and Lorenzo are a blissfully happy married couple themselves, now in their mid-forties.

Despite her name, she's English, but, romantically, fell for him on holiday at nineteen and never returned home.

Ordained, she will be the one to officiate their ceremony, so they soon get on to talking about their vows and the order of service.

And she's proven herself to be quite the wedding planner too. Talk about full service!

Together, they successfully ran another luxury hotel, further down the coast, before finally getting their hands on this long-admired property.

After a painstaking and sympathetic restoration, they only opened their doors for the first time earlier this summer.

From its commanding position, high on the hillside over the picturesque town in the heart of the Amalfi Coast, the Palazzo oozes elegance and charm, but has a wonderfully warm and friendly vibe.

Tiered and sun-kissed gardens, terraces and balconies make the most of its steep site; each affording incredible views over the sparkling Mediterranean.

To have the run of such a place, and get to fill it with their nearest and dearest for more quality time than they can ever usually afford, Harry and Eloise know they truly lucked out in finding their perfect venue.

The gifts of time and privacy are practically priceless for them, so they couldn't resist designing a days-long celebration to make the most of it.

They couldn't be any more excited.

Bring it on.


	2. Part B

19th September 2019

After indulging in a little well-deserved lie-in after their long drive, Harry finally blinks awake.

The subtle scent of lemon, from the trees growing on the hillside below, floats upon a gentle breeze, through the open balcony doors. The gauzy cotton curtains dance through a shaft of sunlight as they billow lazily into the room.

Unmoving, he casts just his eyes up, to find Eloise, scrolling quietly through her phone. Laying on her side, facing him, the sheet is draped loosely over her waist, but, absentmindedly twirling a lock of hair around her finger, her bent arm covers her chest - disappointingly, for him.

Engrossed in something on her screen, she doesn't immediately notice he's awake, so he takes the opportunity to drink her in, unabashed.

Then, moving suddenly, he makes her jump. Slipping his hand from under his pillow, he snatches her phone.

Deftly flipping it around and swiping up to bring up her camera, he manages to snap a photo before she can recover from the shock of his sudden movement.

Cottoning on, she's just too slow to block his shot. "Babe, no! What are you-? Stop! I'm a state".

"You're absolutely not...", he scoffs good-naturedly, voice low and gruff. "See?".

Turning her screen back to her, he shows her the photo. "Just look at what I get to wake up to every morning... Now and forever", he grins, smugly. "God, I'm the luckiest bloody bastard in the whole universe!", he calls out, laughing with glee.

Rolling her eyes, she takes her phone back and squints an appraising eye at the photo, chuckling wryly. "Ooh, yeah... Lucky you!", she rolls her eyes. "Messy hair, creases on my cheek from my pillow, a random smattering of freckles, and, fucking hell, is that a spot on my chin?", she gasps in panic, feeling for it gingerly.

"I just see a goddess-, my goddess! Just look at those eyes...", he prompts, scooting closer to share her pillow as he gazes lovingly. "That's my very favourite colour, you know? That exact shade of blue... A light and bright cornflower blue; crystal clear, but with the slightest hints of light grey and lilac... They seem to get brighter and bolder through the day, you know? They're always amazing, but, first thing in the morning, in the right light, they're just the most incredible pure blue hue".

"Oh, my God...", she simpers. "Are you going to be this moony for the next couple of weeks?".

"You bet!", he tugs her into the crook of his arm, pressing kisses to her forehead as she nuzzles into his neck.

Rolling back, he drapes her over him in a languid, sprawling cuddle, taking a moment, just for them.

"How did I ever get so lucky-?", she whispers in disbelief before trailing off, distracted as she gazes up at him, taking note of the crystal olive hue of his own dreamy eyes in this magical light.

Reverently trailing her fingers from his jaw to his cheekbone, she stretches up to rake them over his fluffy hair and scalp.

She thought he might chop it last week, but he'd returned home with just the merest trim, leaving his curls relatively long, grazing his ears. Unstyled, that just means they stick up even more wildly than normal, with some ringlets starting to form again through the lengths on top.

"What was that?", he murmurs, prompting her with a sexy smirk already stretching across his face. "You want to get lucky? Oh, that can absolutely be arranged", he chuckles naughtily, rolling to pin her to the mattress.

>

Detaching from her kiss, he arches his neck to drag his lips down the long column of hers. After peppering kisses over her collarbones, and then over her chest, he shifts further down between her legs, to continue his journey south more comfortably.

Lathing, sucking and nipping at both her budded, dusky pink nipples, in turn, he casts his eyes up to hers, grinning at her uncontainable mewls and sighs, hips already shifting in anticipation.

Nudging lower, he pecks his way down, over her stomach, hips and thighs, before nudging her legs apart, dropping one last, lingering kiss.

Then he pops his head straight back up, with the sheet incongruously hooded around his unruly curls like a veil.

Otherwise wearing only a haughty, accusatory smirk, the picture of demure innocence, he is not. 

"You've been holding old out on me, greedy girl!", he gasps, already crawling forward, caging her in his arms.

Nuzzling into her neck, he nips his way back up to whisper lowly in her ear. "You're more than ready for me, aren't you?", he punctuates the question with a grind of his hips, followed by a teasing roll and flex. "I'll finish what I started later, I promise, but I need you... I can't wait, baby", he groans.

Even coming from the master negotiator, she can't deny that those are mighty appealing terms.

Seriously, how did she get so lucky?

>

Finally making it downstairs, after breakfast on the terrace, they settle down with Isabella in the air-conditioned lounge to tackle some final wedding admin.

Their assistants are due to arrive soon enough - well, two of them; Emma and Hannah; coming from LA, Luis has further to travel and has been less directly involved anyway.

Harry and Eloise have been so grateful for all their help - and Isabella's too - but they've been keen to get the chance to enjoy the last of the planning together.

With their busy schedules and her increasingly late-running shoot schedule, they had to do more dividing and conquering than they'd originally anticipated.

Sympathetic to their circumstances, Isabella had tried to delay some of the bigger final decisions for as late as possible, to let them sit down and work it through together. There's a lot to do, but there's still time, and they're in great spirits.

Enjoying witnessing their incredible bond and happiness in person - equally unable to tear their eyes off each other from over their coffee cups, and almost constantly touching somehow - the super organised and dedicated Isabella feels even more driven to deliver them their perfect day.

>

First, Isabella introduces them to her key members of staff, including all the heads of the various departments.

Then the florist arrives, bringing with her several different shortlisted flowers, plus samples of different styles of bouquets, buttonholes, corsages and flower crowns. Her company will also prepare the centrepieces for the tables and dress the garden for the ceremony too.

Eloise's first choice would always have been white peonies, but they're unfortunately not in season, so they mull over the merits of white magnolia, dahlia and gardenia flowers.

After some deliberation, and mindful of avoiding anything too comically oversized for the buttonholes or the smaller members of the bridal party, they settle on white gardenias with eucalyptus leaves. They're a little hardier than delicate peonies anyway, and smell incredible too.

Next, they're joined by both the charming head chef and sommelier, sampling delicious canapés to make their final selections, before reconfirming the food and wine pairings for Tuesday.

Reviewing antipasti and menu options for dinners over the next few days, they double-check the guestlist again for any intolerances or special requirements.

Neither are huge fans, so can't quite see the point of a hugely elaborate cake; and certainly not when the resident pastry chef can magic up such incredible confections - like Limoncello tartlets and melt-in-the-mouth cannolis.

But, as a nod to tradition, they agree on a relatively small two-tiered cake, just to have something to cut during the reception. After sampling the various options, they agree on a two-tiered cake. A very subtly spiced sponge with an incredible home-made Limoncello cream filling; atop a lower tier of carrot cake.

Reluctantly bidding goodbye to the chef, they focus next on reviewing schedules and timing plans with Isabella, double-checking lists and numbers and seating-plans.

The conversation shifts to security, and the plans they'd devised to ensure everyone's privacy was protected and the chance of any gatecrashers avoided.

The staff have all signed NDAs. The guests too; one to first receive their invitation with details of the wedding, and another that they'll need to sign upon checking in.

Harry and Eloise also prepared a handwritten letter - with a copy addressed to each of their guests, to be left in each room - reminding them of their need for utmost discretion and their abstention from posting anything to social media yet.

As they double-check everyone's photo is correctly labelled, they pair them up with the special wristbands they'd devised, to grant guests entrance to the hotel, access to its facilities, and free drinks from its bars.

Keen to avoid a festival wristband vibe clashing too badly with anyone's outfits, they'd chosen a simpler, subtler design. They are, by design, more akin to a friendship bracelet, with a distinctive striped design personalised with embroidered names, woven in shimmering metallic threads.

With the more arduous tasks complete, they relocate next door, to sample the head bartender's specially devised cocktails and drinks menu for the reception. With only relative restraint, they manage to shortlist the options and start spitballing some memorable names for them.

With everything else ticked off their to-do list, Isabella leaves them in her husband, Lorenzo's, capable hands for a tour, so that she can get to work, checking and reconfirming all the final requirements.

>

First, they head up to the upper floors, to check out the bedrooms and suites, assigning some of the better rooms to family, the bridal party and anyone with special requirements. The rest will be assigned on a first-come, first-serve basis. They're all gorgeous, so it's safe to say that no one will be slumming it, by any means.

The sprawling two-bedroom suite is allocated to Anne and Gemma; whilst Eloise's parents luck out with a suite with stunning sunrise views, for the benefit of her early-rising dad.

The whole Palazzo is amazing, as befitting the millions of Euros sunk into its sympathetic restoration and renovation. The result is undoubtedly luxurious and design-led, but warm and welcoming.

There's something interesting and beautiful to behold, whichever way you look. Stunning original features, appropriate muted colours and rich textures are complimented with modern touches like glass, brushed chrome and sleek leathers, with striking modern art. The rooms, many with four-poster beds and little balconies, also feature luxurious marble bathrooms.

Architecturally, the backbone of the sprawling, nine-story Grand Palazzo is a stunning, statement stone staircase. It runs up through the central atrium like the spine of the building, swooping and curving all the way up to the roof terrace.

>

On their way back downstairs, they take in the myriad of reception rooms - flowing from the lobby, through lounges and a library, to bars and restaurants, which spill out on to broad terraces overlooking the gardens and hillside, down to the sea below.

Reaching the vast basement level, they check out the wine cellars, well-appointed gym, yoga studio and spa. Given the elevation and steep slope, light floods into the windows along one wall, throwing beautiful sunlight across its vaulted ceilings and archways.

Heading outside, Lorenzo leads them down to the lowest level of the grounds - the garden where the ceremony will be held.

From there, they head back up the tiered terraces, connected by sweeping stone staircases. Passing through ornate courtyards and feature fountains, they check out infinity pool, sunbathing deck, and the private plunge pools.

The whole estate is pristine and beautifully looked after; all manicured lawns, finely tended pot plants and sculpted shrubbery.

Bursting with excitement, they can't resist checking out the honeymoon villa - situated in a private corner of the grounds, complete with its own pool, terrace and gardens.

>

Finally heading back inside, they take the lift from beside the spa, all the way up, to the rooftop terrace.

Emerging outside, they step to the top of the statement wide spiral staircase and gasp, still just as entranced as before.

There's a sleek bar along one wall, with pretty wisteria-draped pergolas at one end and a wall of climbing yellow laburnum at the other. In between, the centre of the tiled terrace is dominated by a huge, gnarly old lemon tree. Its broad canopy provides dappled shade and an abundant crop of fruit.

Their excited chatter ceases when they turn to survey the view. Fully illuminated by bright afternoon sunlight, it somehow seems even more impressive, and leaves them utterly speechless.

Excitement brewing, it's safe to say that Tuesday suddenly feels very real.

It can't come soon enough.

>

The final stop on their tour is to check out the Clubhouse. A ten-minute drive through the town and down the hill, it's the hotel's private beach bar. Clinging on to the rocks at the seafront, it has its own sun deck and direct access down to the turquoise water.

Mindful of the need to maintain their privacy and keep firmly under the radar, Harry and Eloise hadn't been entirely convinced they should brave checking it out, but curiosity gets the better of them. And Lorenzo's reassurances prove compelling - it's late in the season, there will be no other hotel guests, and his car has tinted windows.

What have they got to lose?

After swinging by their suite to take some precautions - suncream, sunglasses, hats and cover-ups - they head off.

>

True to his word, Lorenzo pulls off the main strip and straight into a gated driveway.

They don't see another soul until they're introduced to the Clubhouse Manager, Leo.

Nestled against the cliffs, it's entirely private and a nothing short of a delight.

Immediately stripping to their swimwear, they can't resist heading down to the steps and over the swimming platform for a dip. It's cool in comparison to the balmy afternoon, but, oh, so inviting.

It all comes as something of a relief. As incredible as the hotel is, they worried their guests might feel like they were being held hostage for the sake of privacy.

They don't want to be overly cautious, but can't bear the thought of all their careful planning being put at risk, if inundated by rapid paparazzi or descended upon by eager fans.

But, this private little slice of heaven on the edge of the Mediterranean feels like it will provide the perfect solution. It's not big enough to accommodate everyone at once, but will definitely lend some room to roam, if needed.

Slightly further afield, Lorenzo promises he can also arrange access to nearby members-only golf and tennis clubs, tours of a local vineyard and even a cookery school.

>

Heading back to shower and change, Harry and Eloise end up enjoying a long relaxed dinner on the terrace, just the two of them, watching the sun go down before heading up to bed for an early night, before the mayhem really kicks off.

After a busy but incredibly productive day, and with all that fresh, salty sea air, they quickly drop off to sleep, wrapped tightly in each others' arms.

>  
>

20th September 2019

After a final run-through of the schedules for the next few days with Isabella after breakfast, Harry and Eloise make the most of the last of their time alone, soaking up some sun as they relax by the pool.

Their immediate families are due to arrive by mid-afternoon.

They're flying into a variety of airports to reduce the risk of any unwanted attention, but the cars laid on to collect them are serendipitously all due to arrive within just fifteen minutes or so of each other.

>

As Lorenzo leads them on to the terrace overlooking the pool, they're all peering around at the grounds and view in wonder, and craning to catch a glimpse of the garden for the ceremony.

"Pretty incredible spot for a wedding!", Ollie calls out, the first to spot Harry and Eloise, down by the pool.

They're sharing a double sun-lounger, legs intertwined and laughing together, totally oblivious.

Craning around in surprise, they shield their eyes from the sun as they squint up at them.

Anne; Gemma and Michal; and Des and his partner.

Crispin and Elin; Ben, Mer and Ruby; and Lucas and Ollie - who'd had to tread carefully to keep their reasons for being excused from a few days training and matches tomorrow firmly under wraps.

Untangling themselves, Harry and Eloise jump up and hastily don their cover-ups as the others head down to greet them.

After a flurry of hugs and kisses and excited chatter, attention turns to Mer - now heavily pregnant, just into her seventh month. They all make a fuss of her, and promise she'll neither need, nor be allowed, to lift a finger.

Excited to be reunited with Aunty Lolly and Uncle Harry, as well as the rest of the family, little Ruby doesn't waste any time in giving them all the literal run around.

The hotel is a lot of things, but particularly child-friendly, it is not.

They all resolve to watch her like a hawk.

>

As they all mingle and catch up, Lucas casts an eye over his sister.

Smothered in factor thirty suncream, and wearing a big, floppy straw hat, Eloise isn't taking any chances of unsightly tan lines, so wears a strapless bikini.

With everyone else but Harry fully dressed after coming straight from the airport, she's already feeling a little self-conscious to be wearing quite so little, not least in front of Harry's dad.

"So you're actually not pregnant then?", Lucas asks, surprise evident in his naturally booming tone.

Unsurprisingly, it puts a halt to everyone else's conversations, their interest piqued.

"Oh, my God, stop!", she barks an awkward laugh, immediately blushing under the wide brim of her hat. "For the last time, this is not a shotgun wedding!", she laughs, but is insistent.

Ever eagle-eyed around her, Harry catches her awkwardly shifting on the spot, self-conscious as ten other pairs of eyes snap to look her over.

"Well, why the rush then?", Lucas pushes, not combatively, just curious and blunt as ever. "You're only twenty-six. He's twenty-five!".

"Why wait?", Harry counters, slinging his arm around her shoulder in solidarity.

Eloise shakes her head at Lucas exasperatedly. "We've been together for four years, and want to be together forever, so why hold out?", she shrugs. "Our schedules are insane, so this was literally the only real gap until the end of next year", she explains, again.

It satisfies him, and everyone else, alike. "Well, I'd say that's more than deserving as the first toast of many!", Anne offers them both a beaming smile. "Shall we check out the bar before heading up to unpack?".

Wrapping her arm around Eloise's waist, she encourages her to lead the way as Harry gathers their things from the sun-lounger.

>

Eschewing the bars on the terrace above the pool and on the ground floor, Eloise gives them just a whistle-stop tour for now, just so far as the lift.

Only taking it up to the eighth floor, she grabs Harry's hand and they lead them up the grand staircase to emerge on to the rooftop terrace.

Skipping ahead, they turn, just in time to see their reactions.

They are exactly the same as theirs had been, the first time; stepping in a slow circle, gaping, gasping, stunned speechless.

After both the pop of the first champagne cork and the first toast of many, they lounge around on the sofa seating under the verbena clad wall at the far end of the terrace.

They all chat, catching-up and discussing the plans for the next few days, whilst waiting out the sun's descent, dropping into the horizon, setting the sea aflame in a spray of shimmering gold.

>

Eventually heading downstairs to collect room keys, unpack and change, they reconvene on the restaurant patio, wining and dining long into the night.

They're all chilled but excited, and their happy chatter and ready laughter drift over the patios and terraces below, down the hillside.


	3. Part C

21st September 2019

After breakfast on Saturday morning, they congregate back at the pool deck, arriving in dribs and drabs, eager to make the most of the sunshine.

As they chatter, claiming sun loungers and sorting their things, with Harry hooking up some music and Ben divvying up the various inflatables that need blowing up, Elin suddenly gasps, drawing everyone's attention.

With her mouth agape, she whips her sunglasses off to reveal her wide blue eyes, locked on Eloise's side.

She'd been leaning across a sun-lounger, stretching to reach for a beach ball when she'd frozen, turning to her mum with a quizzical look on her face. "What?", she worries.

"What the bloody hell is that, young lady?", Elin seethes, eyebrows raised.

Instinctively clapping a hand to her left side, Eloise sits back on her shins, stature defensive as she braces herself for the inevitable onslaught.

Pulling her sunglasses up on to the top of her head, Eloise can't help but roll her eyes. Her mum launches into a tirade about senselessly marring her skin before belatedly looking around and tailing off, realising it's a losing battle.

Harry's obviously covered. Gem has a few; from discrete dots on her wrist, to a bird on her bicep, and a palm tree on the back of her arm, matching Harry's. Michal has a few of his own. And Lucas has the England Rugby rose high on his right arm.

But, before Eloise can snap back in defence of them all, she catches her dad out the corner of her eye, and can just tell he's trying to contain a smirk.

"What?", she sasses at him. "Nothing to add to that?".

With a quirk of his lips, he gestures to her side. "Go on, then, show us...".

Peeling her hand away, Eloise casts a look to Harry as her dad peers closer, before Crispin narrows his eyes playfully at him.

His intense stare soon has him shifting a little sheepishly from foot to foot. "Hey, don't look at me... That was all her!", Harry protests.

Eloise rolls her eyes again at him for good measure before swatting her dad away and levelling a look at her mum. "Well, I love it and it means something very special to me, so I don't really care what you think or what you have to say about it... And it can't be that offensive if you've not spotted it in almost a year, or at any point yesterday, for that matter".

"Well, we don't see you half-naked too often", Crispin counters, taking up his usual role, trying to play peacemaker and be the voice of reason between Elin and Eloise.

"Well, neither do many other people, so I really don't see the big deal", Eloise pulls her sunglasses back down, and sits back to start blowing up the beach ball, intent on putting all that hot air to better use.

Mer, hormonal, uncomfortable and sassing at Ben, soon lands him in it... Accidentally, or possibly on purpose.

As she too settles back on a sun-lounger alongside Eloise, she scoffs quietly. "Don't tell me Ben's managed to keep his tramp stamp under wraps for over ten years now?".

Her little aside was evidently loud enough, and there's a comical synchronicity as everyone turns to gape at her in shock; Eloise yelping as she cricks her neck.

"...Well he had!", Ben hollers, face a picture as he glares at Mer, in shock at her betrayal.

They all round on him, hooting and hollering. Lucas and Ollie pin him and, despite his squirming, turn him around and tug his shorts down enough to reveal the dodgy Chinese symbols at the top of his arse cheek.

Other than Elin, who just looks on aghast, at the betrayal of one of her two golden boys - Ollie and Ben never seem to put a foot wrong in her book - they're all crying with laughter.

And their merciless teasing only ramps up even more when Ben tries to give Mer shit, only for her to just tip her sunglasses down her nose and send him a pointed look as she drops a hand to her very pregnant belly, raising one arched eyebrow at him. It's a point well made, without any words spoken.

"It doesn't even mean anything! It's just nonsense symbols", a furiously blushing Ben admits once he finally shoves off his brothers. "I was drunk, alright, and can't even remember what I'd intended for it to say... It was at some dodgy place near the beach in Magaluf with the uni lads".

Flustered, he flounces off as they all laugh even harder, making increasingly ridiculous guesses as to what it was supposed to say. Bending down to scoop up Ruby, he pauses to mutter at Harry. "Yeah, laugh now... But wipe that smug smile off your face, because, one day, you'll be at the mercy of fucking pregnancy hormones too, and good fucking luck to you, I tell you".

Striding off with an armful of wriggling toddler, Ben heads inside for a time out. For him, not Ruby.

>

Feeling a tiny bit remorseful over Ben's strop, Lucas attempts an ill-advised intervention to take the heat off him, and sets his sights on his usual target.

Still grinning, Eloise is standing up again and squinting at the tiny instructions on the foot pump, keen to blow up the inflatable swan.

Lucas saunters closer. "Whoa, whoa... Don't say that's another one?", he gasps. "Just how much ink are you rocking? He's turned you into a right rebel, hasn't he?", he tips his head towards Harry.

"What are you jabbering about now?", she sighs exasperatedly at him, haughtily planting a hand on her hip.

"Your other tattoo".

"I've only got one", she shakes her head at him, confused.

"There", he gestures to just above her right hip.

"That's not-", she trails off, pointedly. In her peripheral vision, she clocks the others' grimaces and can see the muscle popping in Harry's jaw as he stands up alongside her, and raises his hand to deftly swat Lucas away before he can poke at her lower abdomen.

Levelling Lucas flatly, Eloise raises a perfectly sculpted brow as she sees the realisation belatedly flicker over his face.

"It's not a tattoo... Remember to engage brain at least occasionally, alright Lulu?", she sighs, patting his shoulder condescendingly before turning and walking away, surreptitiously hiking her bikini bottoms higher up her hip.

Already striding back to the returning Ben, she doesn't see the look Harry throws him. Taking Ruby, she grabs her little float and steps carefully down into the pool.

Harry follows soon after, wading up behind her and wrapping her tightly in his arms, with his big palms splayed low, just above her hips.

Hooking his chin over her shoulder, he grins at Ruby's babbling and cooing as she splashes her tiny hands around, before leaning to whisper lowly in Eloise's ear as he strokes her hips. "One day...", he promises, dropping a kiss low on her cheek, just in front of her ear.

>

Trying to see off the last of his slight, niggling hangover, Harry is dozing, splayed out on an inflatable lilo in the pool, his olive skin drinking up the late-morning sun and turning more tanned in front of their eyes.

After handing out some bottles of chilled water, Eloise stands, drinking him in, eyeing his supine form thirstily as she gulps.

Screwing the cap tight, she places the bottle down carefully as she stealthily crouches at the edge of the pool, just adjacent to Harry's lilo.

Managing to suppress her ready peal of laughter, with a jump and a twist, she lands relatively neatly, despite the bounce and splash, as everyone else whoops and cheers.

Startled suddenly awake, and shocked at the resounding cold splash, Harry reflexively curls upwards, limbs flailing as he tries to regain his balance. But Eloise smoothly pins him back down with her weight, planting her elbows either side of his torso.

Smoothly dropping a kiss to his lips before he lies back down, she follows him, and ends up draped languidly over his chest and between his spread legs. Her own legs are bent at the knee, with her feet swaying haphazardly in the air above them.

As she shifts her hips and settles to get comfy, she rubs up against him. "Oof, careful!", he warns lowly. "You're playing with fire...", he cants his hips subtly so she can feel him twitching and stiffening against her stomach. Eyeing her boobs, spilling over her strapless bikini top to pool against her chest, definitely isn't helping matters.

Reaching awkwardly, she passes him the forgotten water bottle. "Here, it'll help... It's deceptively hot today too".

"Something's definitely hot, for sure", he smirks, gaze locked low as he brings the bottle to his lips.

As he drinks, she looks around at their families, chilling and relaxing. "Do you think they'll feel like we're holding them hostage?", she mulls. "I mean, are we being too strict? What's the harm in letting them explore the town and coast a bit, if they want?".

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looks around too. "They seem happy enough", he shrugs. "But maybe... As long as they're careful and discrete, I don't mind at all". He lifts a hand to smooth her hair over her shoulder before dropping it to her neck, massaging gently. "All I really care about is being able to hear you say your vows, without a bloody helicopter or drone hovering nearby and drowning you out".

"Just three more days, baby", he grins. Lifting a hand to her jaw, he cranes his neck to capture her lips with his.

Hearing a click, they unwittingly break apart and look up to see Gemma crouched at the poolside, taking a photo. "Ugh, adorable!", she sighs looking at the screen with a soft smile. "Now, look at me...".

Once she's satisfied and leaves them in peace again, Eloise lifts herself up a bit, arching her back to drop a kiss to his butterfly tattoo. But, with a gasp, Harry pulls her back down again, sprawled over him. "Yeah, you're not going anywhere... You've only brought this on yourself", he smirks with another naughty shift of his hips; little blue trunks leaving little to the imagination.

"Oh, what a terrible punishment", her voice drips with sarcasm as a cheeky smirk tugs at her lips. Twisting her head to pillow on his chest, she closes her eyes, taking his lead for a quick cat-nap.

>

After staring at Eloise moonily for a few minutes after she dozes off, Harry starts brainstorming plausible excuses for them to sneak back up to their room for a while.

Only getting increasingly worked up, he decides to get his own back. Her tits are proving way too tempting and he has far too much going on in his shorts right now than is appropriate, surrounded as they are by their families.

With a deep breath, he suddenly throws his right arm and leg over her, shifting his weight enough to have the lilo flip over, upending them into the pool.

Recovering faster, he scoops her straight back into his arms, dazed and spluttering in surprise.

He should be avoiding further temptation, but she's just too damn cute and the shock of the comparatively cooler water has worked wonders for him. And what harm could a little kiss do, really?

>

But, thanks to a few cannonballs in quick succession, they don't have the pool to themselves for long.

And, with excitable and competitive Cadogan's about, it doesn't take long until there's a worryingly close call.

With Lucas and Ollie around, there's never a rugby ball far from hand. It starts innocently enough with some line out practise, before they move on to quick hands. The speed both can fire off a ball with is alarming; all the more so, knowing they're evidently going easy on them.

"Lol!", Ollie shouts in the barest of forewarnings.

She just pushes out of Harry's loose hold fast enough to throw her hands up, snagging the ball with her fingertips before wrapping her other arm around it, grunting at the impact, before shaking out her hand and checking her nails.

"Whoa, whoa!", Ben chides from his seat at edge of the pool, where he's dipping a giggling Ruby in and out of the water. "How about no balls in her face this week?".

Everyone else in the water - Ollie, Gemma, Michal, and even Eloise - snigger a laugh at that, but it's Lucas that gets in first. "Hear that, Harry?", he quips with a cheeky wink.

It sets them off even more, with Harry only just managing to keep a straight face as he grabs the ball from Eloise and lobs it back towards her brother's head.

Impressed with his aim, Lucas points at him with the ball. "Well, look at that... Superstar's got quite the arm! Good to know".

From their perch sitting on the steps, Michal snorts a laugh at the nickname, making Harry spin around.

Eyeing up his physique - recently pumped up from his heavy workout routine, he's in the best shape of his life - Michal takes the opportunity to keep ribbing the man of the hour. It's always good to keep that ego in check.

Casting his eyes over his torso, Michal leans forward in a stage whisper as Harry wades closer. "Go on then, admit it... Were you feeling the pressure of knowing those two would be storming around half-naked?", he nods his head towards Ollie and Lucas.

Shaking his head as he sidles closer, Harry then elbows Michal and tries to duck his advances and swat him away as he tries to feel up his defined pecs.

"Think your boobs are bigger than Gem's now, to be fair!", Michal sasses crudely. "Good work".

That earns him a slap around the back of the head from both Styles', whilst the imminent new addition snorts a laugh from where she lounges on the inflatable swan, sculling slowly closer as she paddles her hands through the water.

Eloise casts an appreciative eye over Harry from behind the dark lenses of her Celine sunglasses as she approaches. Admittedly, he looks fucking incredible, and she'd been sure to tell him that throughout the summer as a reward for all his efforts, but any potential self-consciousness from him over comparisons to her brothers hadn't crossed her mind.

Sitting up and slipping into the water in front of Harry, she steps close to lean against his chest with her crossed arms draped over his shoulders. Pecking kisses up his neck, she tilts her head up to whisper in his ear, making a point to remind him quite how perfect he is to her and just how ridiculously over-inflated those two really look.

Forever his number one cheerleader, she'll always be on hand to readily fluff that ego of his.

>

A short while later, an innocent suggestion, admittedly from Harry, had them having a go at recreating the 'rugby in a tutu' photo of their youth.

With Ruby passed off to Elin, Ben joined them in the water as Crispin and Harry stood at the edge of the pool, overseeing proceedings, whilst Anne snapped away with her camera.

Once Eloise clambered down from Ben's shoulders, fretting over his old injury - sustained in Magnus' attack, she stills blames herself - it wasn't long before Ollie ups the ante. "Hey, remember the 'totem'?".

He alludes to another photo on the wall in Crispin's study. Despite everything, Harry still hasn't been in there, so Eloise fills him in; essentially, one family holiday, when they were all pretty young, they'd all managed to sit atop each other's shoulders.

Ollie's innocent suggestion stokes their competitive natures, and they're soon gamely attempting another recreation.

Eyeing his brothers, Ben winces. "I'm pretty sure I can't lift either of you any more, let alone all three of you!".

After re-jigging the order - now with Lucas at the base, Ollie on his shoulders, then Ben, then Eloise - they give it a go.

Ben swiftly ducks under her legs, taking her by surprise as he pops up with her on his shoulders again. "You're fine, stop fussing", he bats away her concerns.

They wobble precariously, but Ollie manages to get them up, before Lucas' attempt has them collapsing with a splash.

They try again, after some strategising from Ollie. "Lol, you're going to have to try to climb up".

After a few false starts, with Ben already situated on Ollie's shoulders, Lucas manages the mother of all squats, underwater, to get them both aloft.

Then, all eyes are on Eloise. With a boost from Michal and a steadying hand from Gemma, she gets a foot on Lucas's meaty shoulder, then manages to reach a hand up to grab hold of Ollie's. Despite suncream and the water hindering her efforts, she manages to heave herself up, effectively climbing up her brothers' backs.

She just makes it, and they all cheer as Anne confirms she got the picture.

But, whilst Eloise's balance is pretty good, when she fidgets again, mindful of Ben's right shoulder, her shifting sets them wobbling.

With their hearts in their mouths, their parents, Harry and Mer look on as the tower of siblings comes crashing, splashing, down.

They tip forward, and Eloise only just misses the edge of the pool by a matter of inches.

Seeing it as if in slow motion, Harry dashes around in horror, one step ahead of a fuming Crispin. These four, seriously?

With a skid, Harry thuds down on to his shins. Leaning down, he grips a spluttering Eloise under the arms to haul her out of the pool and up on to his lap.

Frantically swiping her hair out of her face, "Shit, are you okay, baby?". He drops relieved kisses to her forehead, cheeks, nose and lips.

Throwing his head back with a strangled groan, he then calls out to her sheepish brothers, "God, can you all go easy? Just let me marry her with her skull intact, please?".

>

Later, still keeping a wary eye on the action, Crispin and Harry are sitting in the shade, chatting.

Having brought up their pre-nup again - still so impressed they'd been so mature about it - Crispin asked, once again, if they'll let him pay for anything, to contribute to the wedding some way. She's his only daughter, after all.

Eloise had argued with him about it a number of times already, and only conceded to him sorting the travel for their relatives, if he so wished.

Harry has been polite, but even more stubborn about it. But he's not the only strong negotiator; Crispin can be just as wily as Eloise - she learnt from the best, after all.

Meeting fire with fire, Crispin gives him some forewarning. "I already told them at the reception desk that I'll be settling the bill for our rooms, Harry. And there's a big order of champagne arriving today too".

Whilst they chat, Harry looks on, watching her playing with her almost two-year-old niece on a sun-lounger, with Mer alongside them. She has her legs bent up in the air with Ruby sitting astride her shins, hands in hers, making her squeal wildly each time she swoops her legs up and down and around at random.

Interrupting Harry's moony grinning, Isabella then pops her head over the balcony above and asks if he or Eloise can come and sign some guests in. They'd agreed that they'll do that for all the guests; not least for security, but also to ensure they get the chance to give everyone a warm welcome.

Hastily excusing himself from Crispin, Harry jumps to his feet, but, unable to resist, takes a detour via Eloise.

Leaning over the side of her sun-lounger, he drops an upside-down kiss on to the slope of her nose. Then, stretching further, he blows a massive raspberry on Ruby's back, making her shriek with delight.

>

After their assistants - Emma and Hannah - arrived at midday, and Harry insisted they join them down by the pool, rather than get straight to work, their numbers soon started increasing.

The members of the bridal party started arriving after lunch.

As with their families, they'd had to stagger their arrivals via different airports in a bid to stay under the radar; or, at the very least, avoid anyone clocking that they were all heading to the same place.

When they'd first sat down to discuss it, back in May, Eloise had chosen her bridesmaids in a matter of seconds.

Gemma, as her Maid of Honour. With Mer, Malin, Rosie and Adele. Plus Lux and Ruby rounding out her squad as little bridesmaids.

See? Easy.

Harry, on the other hand, had agonised and deliberated over it for days and weeks. Stressing over feeling guilty and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, he'd changed his mind repeatedly.

Eloise's counsel was that he already knew, deep down in his heart, exactly who he wanted by his side. The doubt was just external pressures that he had to silence to realise exactly who he wanted, needed, alongside him. Flipping the question on its head, she'd asked him who he couldn't do it without. That was his list.

So whom had he chosen?

In hindsight, his was an easy enough choice too.

Ben, as his Best Man. He'd known that immediately, and asked him the very first time he'd seen him after the engagement party they'd thrown them upon returning to LA from Bora Bora.

Ollie and Lucas too. Eloise insisted he shouldn't feel obligated, but he'd been adamant.

Jeff and Mitch, obviously. He'd deliberated over Tom, but, mindful of numbers and that he and Eloise aren't the closest, he'd decided not to include him. It helped that he's definitely one of the most laid back people he knows, so Harry's confident he won't hold it against him.

Niall had to be there. He's been one of his very best mates since the age of sixteen, and at his side circumnavigating the world more times than they could count. The pair were always the most similar in the band, and the tightest throughout those whirlwind five years, and have definitely remained the closest since. Harry also adores Niall's strong bond with Eloise, and how he'd been there for her when he couldn't be.

In choosing Niall, he'd agonised over the risk of hurting Liam and Louis' feelings. However, in reality, they'll always be his brothers, but they both have a lot else going on, and they're just not quite as close any more.

He knew James would be a bit miffed; and possibly Xander too. And, once upon a time, Grimmy would have been in closer contention too... But he had to draw the line somewhere.

As for littler dudes, they were surprised just how many of their closest friends were adamant they wanted to make it a child-free occasion.

His step-sister's son, Archie, insisted he was too cool and too old and didn't want the gig, and Adele wasn't bringing Angelo, so that left just one of their god-sons in contention. Rosie's son, Jack, would be a little pageboy.

So, in hindsight, despite his stressing, his list was pretty obvious too.

>

A while after lunch, Harry returned to the pool with a noisy gaggle in tow.

Jeff and Glenne; Mitch and Sarah; Niall; Malin; Adele; Rosie, Jason and Jack; Louise and Lux.

To appease his guilt, and avoid them missing out on the final stag and hen do's tonight, Harry had insisted that a few extras join them early as well.

James and Jules; Liam and Maya; Louis and Eleanor; and Tom and Jenny.

"Oi, oi!", it's Louis that hollers from the top of the steps down to the pool deck, causing Eloise and all their families to crane around to look.

With just enough time to have hastily handed Ruby to her dad, and as soon as Rosie and Adele throw their handbags down, Eloise is wrapped in a tight and long dual hug.

They haven't seen each other in months, and it's a long-overdue reunion.

Teetering blindly by the edge of the pool, there's an inevitable splash, much to everyone's amusement.

>

The rest of the afternoon is just as high-spirited, with everyone mingling, laughing and chatting as they all catch up, excited for all the festivities that lay in wait.

When Eloise clambers up behind Harry, sat astride the inflatable swan, she wraps her legs around his waist and hooks her chin over his shoulder, following his gaze as he casts his eyes around their nearest and dearest.

"I bloody love this lot", he twists to grin at her, eyes crinkling.

"Me too!", she beams back. "And I bloody love you, too", she leans in for a kiss, earning them cat-calls and hollers from all around.

>

Once Harry and Eloise have clued them all in on the plans for the next few days, then tidied up the pool deck to head back up and give them a tour, they all head off to their rooms to get ready for what promises to be a fun night.


	4. Part D

21st September 2019 (continued)

When Harry and Eloise head down the final sweep of the central marble staircase, hand-in-hand, there are cheers from the assorted rabble waiting in the lobby.

She's in an off-the-shoulder, Self Portrait giupure lace playsuit. It's crisp white and her fuchsia painted lips set off her already golden tan. Her hair in crown of artfully messy plaits, and her minimal flat silver sandals tone it down a notch, but she's still notably more dressed up than Harry.

He's in pleated beige trousers, with a Bode printed short-sleeve shirt over a white ribbed tank, but he pulls it off like it's a carefully styled look, even with his tousled lengthy curls and scruffy once-white Vans.

An excited Gemma is the first to pounce, reaching up to fix Eloise with a pretty floral crown with a veil attached.

Both grinning at the palpable excitement from their nearest and dearest, Harry and Eloise part with a quick peck and hushed words of good-natured warning. 

"Now, don't let them pressure you into anything...", he whispers lowly in her ear, tone dripping with teasing mirth as he tugs playfully on her veil.

"Well, don't let my brothers bully you into any sort of stupid rugby-esque hazing!", she warns him. "And, remember, if there's even any suggestion of a stripper, it's a trap or a test and you need to run away", she reminds him, eyes sparkling even if she's just about able to keep a lid on her teasing grin.

They'd been winding each other up the whole time they were getting ready, inventing increasingly ridiculous scenarios. "If there's no sign of you in the morning, I promise I'll check for a mattress on the roof first", he offers in parting, making her laugh with a reference to The Hangover.

He'd be genuinely impressed if she could get into anything like that much trouble here, but, with Rosie and Adele in the mix, he knows something of that ilk wouldn't be entirely outside the realms of possibility.

As Ben and Gemma physically tug them apart, Eloise rounds on the girls as they link arms and drag her away. "Now, please, promise me this is it...", she tries to reach up to straighten her crown. "There better not be any penis straws or any of that tacky shit lying in wait?", she sasses.

As his bark of laughter tapers into a dejected sigh as he watches her walk away, Harry spins around to face the guys. "So?!", he rubs his hands in eager anticipation, eyebrows wiggling.

>

With the need to keep their location firmly under wraps, they'd already decided to forego the beach Clubhouse or any bars on the local waterfront, and instead just commandeer opposite ends of the hotel.

Well, for now... They all know it's inevitable they'll end up together; and sooner rather than later, if Harry and Eloise get their way.

The guys stay on the main terrace as the girls head off, all the way down to the bar at the end of the pool deck.

With the scent of fresh lemon hanging in the air, and lit up with fairy lights and candles, with tables laid out with plates of mouth-watering antipasto, it's more than a little inviting.

In no time, the guys hear the girls' faint cheers as champagne corks pop, and they, in turn, soon smell the tang of cigar smoke drifting down the hill on the breeze. How perfectly stereotypical.

>

A couple of hours later, it's safe to say Eloise is drunk, but just about perfectly so - silly and goofy and professing her love for everyone. Immediately distracted by the lure of the dance floor (well, a make-shift corner of the pool deck), she didn't eat nearly enough soon enough.

When the rowdy guys emerge down the stairs at the opposite end of the pool, with Harry eagerly leading the charge, he finds her locked in a dance-off with Glenne. He knows it's serious when Queen Bey is involved, and recognises the Bow Down, Don't Hurt Yourself and Get Me Bodied mix to know his best bet is just to pull up a chair and drink it in.

She and Glenne have attended enough Frame classes together to know most of the routine, and, in the zone and laughing gleefully, they're putting on quite the show.

When the other girls flood the dance floor as the mix comes to an end, Harry follows suit.

Hooking an arm around her waist, she spins, and offers him a beaming smile before draping herself over him, breathless.

When she promptly recoils at the taste of whiskey on his lips, he chuckles lowly. "Safe to say you girls are definitely having more fun down here", he admits, glad his unashamed nagging and whining paid off.

He couldn't love each of these men any more; but, knowing she was so close proved too tempting.

>

Despite him being almost equally as drunk as her, together, they manage to shut down a shit-faced James' calls for a comedy roast.

But then he starts heckling Eloise for a repeat of her infamous Stowe performance.

Harry's still in the dark and innocently probes to be let in on the big secret. Fumbling for his phone in gleeful haste, James claims to know how to find a clip on YouTube.

Just as Eloise goes to launch herself at James, intent on wrestling his phone away, Crispin intervenes, having overheard.

With an arm around her waist, he keeps them apart. "Now, you wouldn't be about to try to publicly shame my daughter with an unsolicited video from when she was underage, would you Corden?". His levelling stare has James conceding immediately, without any further argument.

Delivered playfully enough, it's still a scathingly effective disarmament, and opens Harry's eyes to Crispin in protective-Dad mode. It's something he's been lucky enough to have not encountered so far, but it's a warning he'll take heed of.

As is his slightly firmer rounding on Eloise, as she heckles James. "And what exactly are you smirking about, hmm?". Again, it has an immediately sobering effect.

When her dad stalks off, further proving his point, she cuts her eyes nervously to Anne, trying to gauge whether she was within earshot, before taking pity on Harry and clueing him in, albeit a little slurrily and not quite as hushed as intended.

"Fuck, that's embarrassing... But it's not like I stripped off or anything!", she protests. "It was admittedly a bit suggestive, but those crusty old farts totally over-reacted. Talk about double standards...". The intrigued quirk of his lips and piqued eyebrow have her offering a little more. "James was just being a knob. It was a slightly risqué performance at a school charity talent show. I only pushed it because they told me I couldn't, despite a group of lads getting to do an actual full-on striptease. I don't know what came over me, but it's safe to say my confidence must have peaked at sixteen... And it's not on YouTube; at least it better not be!", she grimaces.

Harry tries to suppress his grin. "Well, what did you perform? And quite how risqué are we talking, missy?".

Stepping closer, she drapes herself over him and starts swaying her hips. Raising on to her tiptoes with her lips to his ear, she sings quietly. "He really got me working up an appetite / He had tattoos up and down his arm / There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm / He's a one-stop-shop, makes the panties drop / He's a sweet-talkin' sugar-coated candyman"

With her spot-on impression, Harry recognises it immediately, and his imagination runs wild, just picturing the accompanying moves. Fuck.

Pulling back at his throaty cough, she quirks her lips playfully. "Hmm, practically prophetic, come to think of it...", she smirks over her shoulder as she walks teasingly away from him, swaying her hips for effect.

>

After a grapple - possibly related - at the pool edge that ended up with James throwing Harry in, Eloise joined him, in solidarity, and it wasn't long before they soggily called it a night.

It's already late, but they won't fall asleep for a while yet... Not if he has anything to do with it.

Towelling off after a quick shower, he whispers teasingly, mouthing at the shell of her ear. "I've gotta say, I'm a bit disappointed about the lack of a lap dance at my stag do".

"Watch it, Styles...", she warns around a mouthful of toothpaste, levelling him a look in the mirror.

"I'm kidding!", he giggles into her neck, nosing under the collar of her bathrobe to plant wet kisses. "Well, about expecting one on my stag do, not about wanting one from you... I'd never joke about that".

>

She gamely gives it a go, but the stripping doesn't exactly take long when all she needs to do is shuck off her towelling robe. And, with damp hair and a freshly scrubbed face, she's not exactly feeling her sexiest.

But it's more than enough for him - it's her, after all.

With a playful attitude, that body, and those moves, he never stood a chance.

Despite his bold talk, it all gets to be a bit much, a bit quickly.

With her grinding in his lap, his lathing kisses from the nape of her neck as far down her spine as he can reach proves not nearly distracting enough, and he succumbs to temptation.

Flipping them suddenly over, with his weight on one forearm, he scoops his other under her hips, canting them up to smoothly take her from behind.

Pressing her down into the mattress, she arches back, meeting him halfway for desperate kisses, trying to contain their groans and moans, mindful of the open balcony door. Oops.

>  
>

22nd September 2019

Approaching mid-morning on Sunday, there's a whispered huddle in the hallway.

Gemma and Ben flat-out refuse; they've seen more than enough in their time, and could do without any added trauma. And they knew better than to even consider letting Lucas or Ollie be a part of this; or James, for that matter.

Despite him being the one to procure the keycard, it's a firm no from Jeff, and Mitch too; they've also unwittingly seen more than their fair share already.

"I've got this", Niall shrugs, elbowing his way to the door. "We are not going to miss that tee time".

"I'm in, too", Adele volunteers, knowing this should prove an amusing spectacle.

"Ooh, me three", Rosie sing-songs.

>

Unsurprisingly, they're both still asleep, and, it would seem, also very naked.

Eloise faces them, lying on her side. Her lower leg is bare and poking out from the sheet, which is wrapped only very scantily over her hip and her other thigh. With her top arm bent up and crossed over her chest, her hand is folded awkwardly and tucked cutely under her chin. Her lower arm is stretched out straight, hand flopping off the side of the bed. And her long blonde hair pools in a wavy, tangled mess, obscuring most of her face, which is buried in her pillow.

Over the dip of her waist, rests Harry's big paw, splayed down towards her hip, anchoring the sheet in place - which is ironic, given he's tangled up in it and definitely hogging more than his fair share.

Lying the other way, with his other arm and leg bent up, he's pretty much face down, snoring softly into his pillow.

As they hush each other and continue creeping forward, a twitch of Eloise's floppy hand has them all comically stopping in their tracks. When Adele wheezes to suppress her distinctive laugh, Niall snorts in response, equally struggling to contain his.

It's enough to wake a discombobulated Harry. Craning his neck up off his pillow, he then stills, listening out.

Planting his elbow, he rakes a hand over his face and lets out a low groan, causing Adele to snort again. "Alright, steady on Styles!", she can't help but quip.

Whipping his head around in surprise, Harry groans lowly. "Oh fucking hell! What's this in aid of?". But, attempting to flip over, he only gets more tangled in the sheet.

Upon clocking the scantily clad state of Eloise, he gallantly throws himself half over her with a yelp, eyeballing Niall threateningly as he tries in vain to free up more of the sheet for her.

"Oof! Fuck, babe... Be gentle", she whines sleepily at the impact and his subsequent tight hug.

It's enough to set their three intruders howling, alerting her to their presence.

With a gasp, as she tries to swipe her hair out from her face, Harry promptly clamps her arm back over her chest. "Don't move", he grits out, now yanking desperately at the sheet.

"Okay, okay! Very funny, point proved... We're up, alright?", he pleads. "Come on, if you piss off, we can get up and head straight down".

"No way!", Niall scoffs. "I'm dragging you out of here. We're supposed to be teeing off in thirty minutes and it's a ten-minute drive... You've got three seconds, literally", he warns, deadpan.

That Niall doesn't joke about golf, is something Harry learnt the hard way, long ago. So, seeing him start stretching for comical effect, he submits, albeit with a growl. "Oh, alright! But at least bloody turnaround?".

As soon as their intruders spin on their heels and Rosie starts counting down from three, Harry jumps into action.

After a scramble, he flips Eloise and hauls her to his chest, whilst managing to finally yank the bedsheet free to float it up over them; just in time, as they turn and leap on to the bed, jostling them as they jump around.

As their low, throaty yelps and grumbles reveal their hangovers, they swat playfully at their assailants whilst trying to keep hold of the sheet and their modesty.

When Rosie drops down and moulds herself around Eloise in a tight cuddle, Niall ups the ante, focusing his attention closer to Harry's head. "We are not going to be late for golf", he bites out between jumps.

"Alright, you win!", Harry eventually dissolves into giggles, smacking at his pasty shins. "But we're both starkers, so until you piss off, neither of us can get up, so you're only losing more time here, mate".

With a well-timed shove, Harry pushes Niall from the bed, and, wrapping them both in the sheet, shifts to the edge and just about manages to keep their dignity as he swaddles her close and stands, bundling his arms around her to shuffle towards the ensuite, flipping off the chorus of raucous laughter at the spectacle.

After satisfyingly slamming the door, Harry pokes his head back out, eyeing Niall, now sprawled on the bed laughing with glee. "Hey, Nialler?", he calls. "Move that tee time back, won't you?", Eloise's squeal is just heard as the door closes before he chases her into the shower.

"Shit! Well, we should have expected that", Rosie whines in defeat.

>  
>

After their later than intended start, the guys and girls had separated again for some activities planned by Ben and Gemma.

The girls started with a jaunt down to the private beachside Clubhouse for mimosas and a restorative, bracing dip in the Med. Rosie and Adele then surprised them with the arrival of a classic Riva speedboat, hired for a quick trip up and down the coast.

The snap of Eloise that Rosie sent to Harry immediately had him regretting the choice to go golfing. Lying sprawled out across the wooden deck, perched on one elbow with her back arched and head thrown back in laughter, her other hand grapples to keep hold of her oversized floppy hat. With her blonde hair whipping behind her, her golden tan pops against her sexy black strapless swimsuit, the white cushion beneath her, and the sparkling turquoise sea beyond.

After returning to the Palazzo for a late lunch, the girls - plus the boys who didn't go golfing (okay, just Mitch, Tom and Louis) - head down to the kitchen for a session with the pastry chef, learning how to make cannoli.

After their bubbly at the beach, it isn't long before an overstuffed cannoli cream eruption sets off some giggles. Eloise, unsurprisingly chief amongst the mischief-makers, is soon banished from the kitchen, along with Adele, Rosie and Anne too.

>

They headed down to the pool, which is where Harry finds them upon arriving back at the hotel mid-afternoon.

"Have you all sobered up yet?", he teases, interrupting their chatting. "I've been hearing all about your bad behaviour". He perches at the edge of Eloise's sun-lounger, leaning down for a quick kiss.

Grinning up at him, she rolls her eyes. "So, is the wedding still on, then? Dare I ask who won?".

"Niall and I swept the floor with the lot of them!", he smirks proudly. "Well, with a little help from Jeff".

"Oh, Harry!", Anne chastises. "Didn't you play with your dad?".

"No way, that was high stakes! Him, Michal and Liam were all pretty terrible", he chuckles in recollection.

"How did Lucas take a thrashing?", Eloise asks, grinning knowingly.

"He tried blaming the borrowed clubs, and may have lobbed a few around in a strop".

"And Dad?".

"He was fine", Harry shrugs. "Wants me to get a membership at his club, actually".

"Oh, hell no! I'm way too young to be a golf widow!", she wails dramatically.

"Anyway, so what was all this bad behaviour in the kitchen?".

"Who dobbed us in?", Anne giggles.

"My mum, I'll bet?", Eloise snorts a laugh.

"Hey, be nice!", Harry chastises, tickling her ribs. "Anyway, sorry ladies, but I'm going to need to borrow this trouble-maker for a couple of hours".

"Oh, what for?", Eloise asks, worrying she's overlooked something for Isabella.

"Well, that's a surprise", he teases, standing up and smoothly pulling her with him.

"Oop, up to your room by any chance?", Rosie trills cheekily, whilst little Jack bounces up and down on her stomach.

Eloise swats at her legs with her a towel, blushing whilst looking pointedly towards Anne. Surely he wouldn't be that blatant, in front of his mum?

"Oh, piss off!", he sasses back. "We'll be in the spa, actually".

"Ooh, really?", Eloise whirls around, smiling coyly, sweetness and light personified.

"She's just about the least stressed bride-to-be ever", Adele laughs.

"I should probably get out the sun anyway", Eloise casts an assessing eye over herself, rolling the top of her swimsuit down slightly. "I'm playing a dangerous game with these tan lines".

"Come on, then", Harry slings an arm over her shoulders and steers her upstairs.

>

After being greeted by Lucia, the spa therapist, they set up in a vaulted, candle-lit treatment room. Privacy glass affords them the glorious view out to sea whilst sparing their blushes, and Harry plays with a switch on the wall, dimming the opacity of the glass to enable them to enjoy it, but without the light detracting from the relaxing ambience.

Stripping off and covering themselves up with towels, they lie down on adjacent massage beds.

Part fuelled by the heady mix of champagne and sunshine, Eloise already feels drowsy by the time the door creaks back open, only mumbling sleepy responses to Lucia's gentle prompts about essential oils.

She must doze off before it even starts, and jumps a little when hands make contact down the length of her back.

Hang on a minute... She knows those hands.

Quick as a flash, she lifts her dangling right arm and is rewarded with a yelp and a low chuckle as he just dances his towel-clad crotch out of the way of her fingers.

"I'd know those hands anywhere, baby, but those funny feet and that stupid tattoo are a dead giveaway, don't you think?", she chuckles through the hole of the face rest.

"Damnit!", he laughs lowly.

Hers tapers into a moan as he works his thumbs into her shoulders.

"Careful!", Lucia coaches in her lilting English. "You have big hands and she's little. No bruises for the wedding dress!".

>

After a bit more tuition on techniques and movements and pressure points, Harry thanks Lucia and Eloise hears the door close again.

Tugging her towel down, he shamelessly proceeds to work his hands over her bum, making her squirm.

Moving lower, he drags a knuckle between her legs, making her jump. "Fucking knew it", he purrs lowly. She can hear his smirk.

"You already know I think your hands are magical, baby", she simpers, a little slurry, already blissed out.

"Sit up for me?", he prompts gently. "Let me try and work on your neck a bit".

Letting the towel fall away as she does, she can see exactly what's keeping his up.

Stepping between her legs, as he leans close to attend to her tricksy neck, she peers over his shoulder. "Are we entirely certain that is privacy glass? What if Lucia's some big joker?".

In response, Harry reaches to dim the wall of smart glass to entirely opaque, leaving the room lit only by flickering candles. It makes the mood immediately all the more intense.

Stepping back, he soon ends up with one hand holding both of hers, keeping them at bay, for now, but facing a losing battle in trying to maintain his focus.

>

Another hour later, they emerge totally blissed out and boneless. When Lucia asks them to sign the spa guest book on their way out, they don't need to agree to make no mention of the reciprocated happy endings.

"Mmm, that was a very good shout, thank you, baby", Eloise presses kisses into his neck as they head up to the main lobby in the lift.

"Yeah", he agrees. "Needed that... All of that", he tips her head up to find her lips again.

As the doors ping and slide open, their blissful bubble is punctured as a crowd of newly arriving guests spot them from the adjacent reception desk.

Springing apart, they share a knowing look, and slip back into their roles of host and hostess, heading over to greet them all brightly.

>  
>

23rd September 2019

After another sojourn to the beach Clubhouse for some in the morning, they all congregated on the hotel's main terrace for lunch, then headed back down to the pool deck.

Harry and Eloise join them a while later, after sneaking up to the off-limits roof terrace with Isabella, checking on the preparations for tomorrow and making some final decisions.

Returning with a skip in their step, they're excited to find another wave of guests have arrived, with Ben having signed them in whilst they were tied up.

The numbers are rapidly increasing, and they're already starting to feel the pressure of trying to ensure they're giving everyone enough attention.

On a flight from Manchester, Anne's brother and his family arrive, with Harry's grandad too. They're also joined by his step-siblings and their families; plus Anne's best friend and her family; and three of Harry's old school friends.

There's been a small invasion of Swedes; Malin's parents and Eloise's other aunt and uncle too, plus their grandparents.

Eloise's godfather and a gaggle of close family friends arrive from London too.

And there was a busy flight from LA. Jeff's parents and siblings; Tommy and his girlfriend; Luis - Harry's US-based assistant; Jeff Bhasker, Tyler, Sammy and Ryan, plus their partners; Ben and Gabe, and their wives; Molly and her boyfriend; Cal and his wife; and Zach and Florence, too.

And New York and Nashville are represented too, with Xander and Waseem, and Kacey and her husband.

There's a flight from London later that will bring the final bulk of arrivals; plus a few others, from Paris, Dublin and Tokyo.

It's a lot to keep on top of.

>

Having been doing the rounds and laying his famous charm on thick, Harry spots Liam and Louis, sat smoking at a table in the far corner, and snags a fresh couple of beers for an excuse to join them.

As he approaches, they have their heads together, looking at something across the pool. 

"Fucking hell, better keep an eye out! The competition's a bit steep for my liking...", Louis nudges Liam to look over at Eleanor and Maya. They're standing waist-deep, paying rapt attention to Ollie as he pulls Ruby around in her float whilst chatting with them and Anne and Gemma too.

Harry pops up, handing them both fresh bottles of beers.

"Ah, cheers lad!", Louis doffs his in thanks. "Hey, I meant to ask, did you ever hear anything back from you know who?".

Harry sighs and fidgets, picking at the label of an empty bottle. "Nope", he rubs dejectedly at the end of his nose. "Not a definitive answer anyway".

"Well, that's a bit rude", Liam says bluntly.

"Yeah, well, I guess he's got form ignoring invitations, hasn't he?", Harry looks up, wincing as he casts a glance at Louis.

"I still think you shouldn't have even wasted the money on the stamp", Louis shrugs it off, barely withholding an 'I told you so'.

"Yeah, maybe", Harry shrugs. "But at least my conscious feels clean either way... He made that choice, not me", he scratches his nose again before leaning in closer. "Anyway, enough about all that... What were you two gossiping about like a pair of schoolgirls just-".

James joins them, interrupting Harry. "What's this, you giving Harold grief for not being ushers too?", he stirs with a shit-eating grin.

Harry can't help but grimace, whipping his head back to them, "Fuck, is that-, were you?". He squirms, feeling the anxiety over selecting his groomsmen flood back with a vengeance.

Louis would no doubt have let him sweat, but Liam quickly takes pity. "Chill, H, he's just messing with you!", he chuckles. "We were talking about that...", he subtly tips his bottle towards the pool.

Harry twists to look. "Ollie? Oh, and the girls?", he turns back, shaking his head. "Nah, he's a gent! But, Lucas, on the other hand...", he grins before laughing in jest. Sort of.

"Fucking hell, though, what a gene pool, right?", James sighs.

"Tell me about it!", Harry grins, "It's totally tactical on my part, marrying into it", he jokes again.

"Oh, El's the cream of the crop, no doubt", Liam doffs his bottle this time. "Look at her, sitting there, arguably hotter than the bloody supermodel next to her... Maaate!", Liam jostles Harry's shoulders.

"Mind you, just look at that pasty lad", Louis gestures to Niall. "Fucking hell! They're lapping up whatever he's serving...", he laughs in disbelief. "Maybe it's the unexpected ones you've gotta watch out for, after all?".

Niall's in the pool alongside Adele, with Rosie and Eloise sitting on the side next to them, with their legs in the water.

As if on cue, there's a sudden peal of boisterous laughter, and, soon enough, the four of them fall about laughing over something.

Harry knows he's grinning like a loon, but can't take his eyes off Eloise as she, inevitably, absolutely loses it, creasing into hysterical laughter. Kicking her legs out, shoulders shaking, she claps her hands with unbridled glee before swiping away tears of laughter. Then, clamping a hand back to her face, he's fairly certain, from the others' reactions, that she probably just let out a snort.

Every time she tries to get a hold of herself, one of the others sets her off again, even worse than before.

He's usually in the thick of such episodes with her, so it's refreshing to get to enjoy it more objectively. Deciding it's one his very favourite things, and inevitably starting to laugh too, he excuses himself from the lads and can't resist heading over, ignoring their ribbing.

By the time he reaches her, she's a molten tangle of limbs, sprawled on the pool edge, totally spent. Jumping into the water, and splashing Niall in the process, Harry scoops Eloise into his arms and drapes her over him as he pushes off the wall, intent on helping her cool off.

>

Now approaching late afternoon, a rally cry bellowed from the top terrace - sounding suspiciously like Grimmy - heralds the first of the arrivals of the big contingent from London.

After Harry and Eloise dash up the steps, the others soon start gathering their things to greet them all too, before heading up to their rooms to start getting ready for the evening's celebrations.

As they do, more cars and mini-buses arrive in quick succession.

As expected, there's Nick and his boyfriend, Rita, Daisy, Pixie and her husband, Jack Whitehall, Mabel, Suki, and Tom Glynne-Carney too.

If they were this rowdy on the flight or in the airport, Harry isn't massively hopeful of their chances for keeping anything quiet for long.

Ed Sheeran and his wife arrive just afterwards, and then, in hot pursuit, Lottie with Lou's twin sister, Sam, and her husband Tom.

In and amongst all those friends, there are a bunch of work colleagues who have become some of their closest friends too.

Harry Lambert and his boyfriend, Antonio, with Harris Reed.

Helene and her boyfriend, and, of course, the rest of the band - Adam and his wife, plus their two new members, Charlotte and Naomi. 

Harry's current tour manager is there, along with former incumbents - Paul and Will, plus their wives.

Harry's publicist and acting agent arrive too, with their partners.

Eloise's three agents are in attendance as well - Charles, Melissa and Liz, with their respective spouses.

Repping Killing Eve, Phoebe arrives with her boyfriend, and 'director Harry' too.

>

They're all still excitedly mingling and chatting in and around the lobby and terraces when there are three final sets of arrivals.

In amongst all the madness, two of which are notably quieter and a bit bemused.

Alongside his wife, Harry's bodyguard appears a little unsettled at not having a clear role. For once, there's no need for him to shadow the man of the hour.

And, all the way from Tokyo, Fujii and Kunichi appear, a little taken aback, no doubt more than a little jet-lagged.

The four of them are upstaged - probably gratefully so - by a decidedly glamourous contingent from further afield in Italy.

Alessandro, his partner, Vanni, and a couple of Gucci assistants arrive, laden with garment bags and an enormous box, plus holdalls galore and hoards of supplies, ready for their final fittings and any last-minute tweaks.

It's impressive timing, given he'd presented the latest Gucci collection at Milan Fashion Week at 4pm just yesterday afternoon.

He'd arrived home in Rome early this morning, hastily packed, then headed straight to the atelier to check over the final alterations for Harry and Eloise. After overseeing them being carefully packed up, they'd endured a three-hour drive down towards Amalfi, desperately trying to beat the afternoon rush hour.

Amidst that mountain of Gucci luggage, Stevie and her assistant definitely turn heads upon entering the lobby. She's looking sprightly and fresh, despite having performed for Alessandro at the Gucci party in Milan last night.

The last guests to arrive had all also headed south from Milan and Fashion Week.

Rande & Cindy, with Kaia. And Alexa and her boyfriend, with Florence Welch too.

Then, a group of three that has everyone's mouths dropping - Kendall, with Gigi and Zayn.

An immediate hush falls, before a ripple of murmured whispers moves over the crowd crammed into the lobby and terraces.

There's some surprise, of course, that one of Harry's ex-girlfriends, and a supermodel, no less, is attending the wedding. But it's Zayn's shock appearance that has everyone enthralled.

After initially reaching out just to convey his surprise and gratitude to receive an invite, he'd then never actually RSVP'ed either way - hence Harry's chat with Liam and Louis earlier.

He had agonised over asking, but believes in karma, and ultimately figured Zayn would be unlikely to come; but that if they were ever to all reconcile down the line, he'd hate to feel like he'd been stubborn and had him miss such a big day. After all, they'd been in each others' pockets for four amazing years, so he figured there was no harm in at least extending an olive branch, knowing the onus would ultimately be on Zayn to accept it or not.

Needless to say, rooted to his spot near the corner of the reception desk, Harry finds himself stunned speechless.

Standing over by Stevie, Eloise is a bit too far away to offer any immediate support, so he can only thank fuck for Niall, who strides through the disarmingly quiet crowd with a hearty cheer of "Maaate, no way!", promptly pulling Zayn into a tight hug.

As Liam is spurred to follow suit, with Anne also heading closer, Harry catches Louis' eye and silently begs him not to cause a scene. With a reciprocated nod of the head, they make their way over at the same time.

Providing some further distraction and time for his deliberation, Eloise beats him to it and makes a fuss of Kendall and Gigi before pulling Zayn into a tight hug of her own.

He'd never been anything but sweet to her directly, so she's more than willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. It must have been intimidating as fuck to walk in here, with the eyes of so many of his former friends and acquaintances watching their long-awaited reunion so closely. But, mostly, she hugs him in gratitude, knowing just how much him being here will really mean to Harry.

As the pair finally embrace, Louis remains a bit prickly and on edge, but Eloise has a quietly whispered word, begging him to try, or at least hear him out, but, failing that, just to bite his lip, if only for Harry's sake.

>

The initial reunion - and indeed the crowd in the lobby - is broken up somewhat when Alessandro hurries Harry and Eloise along. He's anxious to complete their final fittings, not least to then be able to switch off work-mode and relax after an insanely busy few days, and indeed last few months.

Confident Niall and Liam will help keep the peace if needed, Harry excuses them before taking Eloise's hand and heading for the stairs, with an excitable entourage hot on their heels.

Rosie playfully covers Harry's eyes as they pass the pile of Gucci bags and boxes stacked at the base of the staircase, just in case anything's on show.

Shaking her off, he follows Alessandro and Vanni to their room.

Eloise heads further up, to their suite, with their mums and her bridesmaids in tow, all desperate to finally sneak a peek at her dress.

>

After retreating to their rooms to freshen up and change, the bridal party headed down to the garden level for a quick run-through rehearsal.

They've all been to enough weddings for the running order to be reassuringly familiar, but it definitely makes it feel all the more real, and when they eventually ascend the steps, they're all chattering excitedly.

Emerging to a chorus of cheers on the main terrace, they find everyone else already hanging out, spread across the terraces, patios, bars, lounges and lobby.

Just over one hundred and sixty guests - all present and accounted for.

There were so many others that Harry and Eloise could have invited; Reese, Ellen and Portia, Sandra Oh, Ansel, Gemma Chan, Jack Lowden, Douglas Booth, Ben Hardy, Mark Ronson... But they had to draw the line somewhere.

With parties in London and Los Angeles planned down the line, they'll just have to make it up to everyone else later.

But, for now, they have their hands more than full. Keeping quite so many guests happy feels like a daunting task, but, if the garrulous laughter echoing off the lit-up golden stone wall of the Palazzo is anything to go by, they're off to a good start.

Given the chef and his team's Herculean task preparing for tomorrow, tonight's dinner is a relaxed buffet spread, laid out in the restaurant. There are platters of classic antipasto, delicious Italian salads, mini home-made pizzas and little bowls of pasta. Mouthwatering warm focaccia, piled high in bread baskets, alongside copious cheese boards, and plenty of wine.

It's more than enough to satisfy the hungry hoardes.

>

After a delicious, relaxed dinner, followed by more drinks, as the hours wear on and a few guests start to retire for the evening - including the elder guests, the few youngsters and their parents, and the jet lagged - the remaining rabble congregate on the lower terrace, around its low-backed sofas and the big central fire pit.

When a tipsy Gemma tries to instigate a game, they all fondly take the piss for her attempt at organised fun. But, when they eventually concede and give her the floor, she's coy. "I can't even begin to count the number of Grammys and Brits and other awards between you all, but there's a load of musicians and singers and a bunch of chairs, so knock yourself out... Musical chairs or acoustic karaoke or something? I don't know...", she shrugs, promptly downing the last of her wine. 

Niall gamely fetches his guitar, which prompts Mitch to grab his, and Sarah's drumsticks too.

Stevie may have already headed off to bed already, but she provided inspiration and Niall strumming the intro to Dreams, before Mitch and Sarah join in, is enough to set them all off, en masse.

It's sweet and happy and joyful. Eloise can't help but grin, just looking at Harry, positively beaming, sharing the music he loves, with the people he loves, gathered for their love.

She couldn't love Gemma more for instigating it - so perfect for them, and for this evening.

There are a few unspoken rules. No one suggests any of their own songs, or those of anyone else around the fire pit. Instead, they tend to go for well-known and well-loved classics, but they're not all just schmaltzy love songs; they definitely mix it up a bit.

After a double dose of Joni, encompassing Big Yellow Taxi and Both Sides Now, there's some classic Lionel and Diana, with Endless Love.

Heading back from the toilet, Eloise has lost her spot, so perches on the back of the sofa behind Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist with her chin tucked over his shoulder to sing along in his ear.

She returns in time for Dusty's Son of a Preacher Man. And then, after Aretha's RESPECT, they segue into her duet with George Michael, I Knew You Were Waiting for Me.

Adele, Eloise and Rosie pull off a BRIT School showcase, taking the lead belting out River Deep, Mountain High, and flooring just about everyone in the process.

Mitch casts a pointed look before launching into She's a Rainbow. Not everyone knows it, but from Eloise's reaction when Harry ends up serenading her, they certainly realise that it holds some special significance.

In return, Niall winks at Eloise as he grabs his acoustic guitar back and launches into Coldplay's Green Eyes. He knows Harry loves it and probably always hoped someone would sing it for him one day. Eloise is more than up to it, and it's all the more special for him that she does it in her own voice. When she gets a little choked, Niall is on hand to take over for a bit, before they finish up with a sweet harmony.

After Crispin delights in Harry's take on Sledgehammer and can't help but heartily join in, Ollie and Lucas keep the tempo up, instigating a rousing rendition of Another One Bites the Dust.

Lamenting that they'll be the only two Cadogan's left, they're still sore over Ben's tactical switch to 'Winston' years ago. They've got pretty decent voices, to be fair, and evidently inherited a fair bit of their dad's theatricality too.

That, inevitably, segues into calls for Bohemian Rhapsody.

Standing up, Ollie reaches for Eloise's hand before tugging her around the edge of the fire pit to sit amongst her brothers, insisting it be her last hurrah as a Cadogan.

A tipsy Ben claps his hands with glee. It's his favourite song and his go-to for karaoke, but, even more pertinently, they sang it twice on Harry and Eloise's very first day together - in the car and then at Cafe Habana. "Come, on Lolly, this is practically poetic!".

"Well, why don't we make this more interesting?", James interjects. "Styles? Pick your fighters...", he sweeps an arm around the terrace.

Harry grins, casting a quick look around. Game on.

His eyes land first on a laughing Niall, then on Liam... "Well, I guess it'll only be really poetic if I choose my brothers, right?".

Buoyed by the thrilled reaction from the gathered crowd, he cranes around until he spots him at a table at the back. "Come on, man... Those high notes?", he calls out, "What do you say? For old time's sake?".

When Crispin stands up to change seats - insisting this is something he just needs a good view of - James eagerly jumps into his seat to even the numbers. He's always considered himself an honorary brother to Eloise anyway, and has no hesitation in elbowing her further up the sofa so she fronts up to Harry, leaving him to take on Zayn with his falsetto. He's literally dreamt of this.

It's a pretty tall order for just two guitars and a pair of drumsticks, but they gallantly give it a good go, and there's a choir of fifty or so voices to lend a hand filling in the instrumentals.

Everyone knows it well, of course, but it's just about the most complicated song ever, so there are some amusingly fluffed lyrics and missed cues on both sides.

Even coming to the song fresh, and singing together for the first time in forever, Harry and the boys have years of harmonising and beautifully blending voices on their side.

Eloise has her work cut out, jumping between lifting the melody and tackling the high harmonies above her brothers' rich but low tenors.

But, soon enough, everyone around the fire pit has assumed backing vocals too. It's impossible not to sing along, to be fair, and, with some seriously talented singers in their midst, and all nicely warmed up and feeling relaxed, it turns into something pretty magical - ending up an increasingly dramatic and theatrical mass sing-a-long, with everyone giving it their all, and any sense of competition long forgotten.

Harry and Eloise lock eyes over the dancing flames during the outro, and he's out of his seat and striding around to haul her into his arms before the end of the song, kissing her senseless, to a chorus of cheers.

They only pull apart when Gemma leaps up in a panic upon realising that it's ten to twelve.

She tries to prise Eloise away, but she clings to Harry like a limpet, making everyone laugh.

Ben jumps up to help and tugs at Harry, but mindful not to risk him losing his footing. When he doesn't so much as budge, he tries harder. "Fucking hell, how strong are you both?", he sasses, actually genuinely impressed.

"Come on, it's tradition! El, you know you don't want to jinx anything", Gemma tries reasoning with another tactic.

"By my count we've still got at least five more minutes, right?", Harry concedes, before dropping Eloise to the floor, spinning her around and promptly steering her by the shoulders, dodging everyone's legs and feet, to then skip up the stairs to the main terrace for a little privacy.

Both giddy with excitement, he has her pressed up against the wall in seconds, with both of them intent on pouring the depth of their feelings into a hot kiss.

>

When an apologetic Gemma and Ben reappear, counting down from ten seconds, they drop their hands over Harry and Eloise's eyes, apologising as they lead them away.

El heads straight up to her and Harry's suite, where she'll have a sleepover with Rosie and Adele.

And, after hanging out on the terrace for a while longer, a pumped and excited Harry heads up to Niall's room, where he'd already stashed his things, ready for the morning.

Both Harry and Eloise are pumped from a magical evening and bursting with excitement for the day ahead, and know sleep won't come easy.


	5. Part E

24th September 2019

Eloise awakes gently to that blissful feeling of warm, soft sunlight falling across her face.

Filtering through the gauzy balcony curtains, it dapples and dances lazily over her features.

With a languid stretch and a feline purr, she rolls over, slowly fluttering her eyes open.

But instead of the usual dishevelled chocolate curls and scrawls of black ink, this morning she finds wide, dusky blue-green eyes, raised eyebrows, honey-blonde hair, and pillowy lips - stretching into the brightest of smiles.

As the penny drops, she lets out a giggle and promptly buries her head into the pillow. Having nabbed Harry's last night, she can't help but inhale deeply, taking a moment.

Today's the day.

Rolling back up, she beams even brighter. "I'm getting married today!", she squeals in a whisper.

"You're getting married today!", Rosie repeats back, shifting the emphasis, chuckling in disbelief.

"Not if I don't bloody kill you first...", comes a warning, throaty growl from her other side. "Come on, it's way too early", Adele swats at them blindly, with a lazy arm reaching behind her back.

Shaking her off, Rosie shifts closer to Eloise and drops her voice to more of a whisper. "So, how do you feel?".

"Well, still half asleep...", Eloise admits quietly, bringing the sheet momentarily over her face to conceal a wide yawn. "But, umm...", she purses her lips, mulling it over. "Quite calm, I think? And, weirdly, a bit grown up?", she pulls a funny face. "But, mostly, just excited and eager and happy and loved up, and, God, I'm missing him already!".

"A little nervy?", Rosie suggests, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "What are the odds on us needing to wheel-spin you out of here?".

Quickly shaking her head, she then pauses again to reflect. "I don't feel nervous, at all, actually". She looks a tad surprised herself.

"Not even about being the centre of attention all day?".

"You cow, don't try and make me nervous!", she swats at her shoulder. "But, no, I'm not really", she shrugs again. "Besides, yet another perk of being with Harry is that all eyes are always on him".

"Oh, bull!", Rosie serves her an epic eye-roll. "Eyes will absolutely be on you, babe - that's literally in the bride's job description!".

"Well, the only pair of eyes I care about is his", she sighs moonily.

"Oh, fucking hell! Call for help, Ro, we're losing her...", Adele snorts a laugh before promptly flipping over and piling in for a giggling, squealing, three-way hug.

>

"Right, what's the plan again?", Adele asks a while later, still snuggled in bed together. "Hit me... And I'll pay attention this time, I promise".

After shooting her a pointed look, Eloise runs through her mental list again. "Okay, so... Breakfast is being delivered here for us for 8am. Then head back to your rooms and shower, before coming back here with all your stuff, to start getting ready. Lou will be here from 8.30am to start on everyone's hair. Then she'll head back to pin it all up once she's done with H. And we can all do our make-up in-between".

Twisting, she reaches blindly for her phone on the bedside table behind her.

"Jesus!", she blanches at the notifications already rolling in, but swipes up to ignore them and quickly begins typing.

She's interrupted when her phone is smoothly plucked straight out of her hands. "Whoa, what?", she gapes over at Adele.

Squinting at the lit-up screen, she levels Eloise with an epic eye roll. "You're messaging him?!".

"Just to say good morning", Eloise shrugs.

"No way!", Rosie gasps, smacking her bum.

"It's our anniversary!".

"It's your wedding day!", Adele punctuates flatly.

"But I just want to wish him a happy anniversary", she pouts.

"Well, how about you wish him a long, happy, superstition-free marriage at 1pm, instead?", Adele sasses.

"Is it too late to change my mind about the whole 'First Look' thing?", Eloise gives it one last shot.

"Oh, that's just something dreamt up by impatient Americans", she scoffs, before adding in a sing-song, "Patience is a virtue!".

"Not one of mine today", Eloise grumbles. It's a little maddening, knowing he's literally just a floor away.

"Oh, my God, this is pathetic... Pull yourself together!", Rosie laughs. "It's just a few hours and it's about to get crazy busy in here... It'll fly by, you'll see". 

"No contact until you see him waiting for you at the end of the aisle", Adele reiterates. "Them's the rules!".

"Okay, okay, point made", Eloise relents, but waggles her fingers for her phone.

"No way! I don't trust you for a minute", Adele buries it under her pillow to prove her point.

"But what if someone needs me? If Isabella-", she tries to reason.

"She - and everyone else - knows exactly where you are and who you're with... In case anything does crop up, they know how to find you", Rosie chips in, definitively.

Well, Eloise can't argue with that.

>

Meanwhile, in a room on the floor below, poor Harry awakes to the sound of Niall letting rip.

"Fucking hell!", he hurls himself up to sit, twisting to gape at him across the king-sized bed, kicking at his leg for good measure. "You animal, that must have lifted the bed sheet!".

Niall actually managed to wake himself up, but, to Harry's chagrin, just dodges his foot and twists back around to settle down again.

"Oh, my God!", he lashes out again with a swinging arm, before promptly rolling over, tugging the sheet up to cover his nose as he wills himself back to sleep - intently focused on picturing a more appealing awakening tomorrow morning.

>

After an indulgent breakfast in bed - washing down smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with a glass of bubbly - the girls scattered to shower and get ready.

Excited to hear that the suite is getting rowdy, Eloise reveals her own grin as she wipes clean the steamed-up mirror and hurries to finish up.

Gem has curated a suitably themed playlist, and, right now, Fleetwood Mac's Everywhere fits the happy yet relaxed vibe perfectly.

Rosie and Adele are back, both freshly showered. Malin is busy hanging up all their dresses on the front of the wardrobe, as Mer and Elin are perched on the bed, thwarting Ruby's best efforts to roll off it as she crawls over the cloud-like duvet.

All cheering and making a fuss as Eloise emerges from the bathroom, Anne is the first to dash over and throw her arms around her. Encased in a long and tight hug, she stretches up to whisper in her ear - a rambling, sweet torrent of excitement, thanks, love and praise.

With shining eyes and a lump in her throat, Eloise rebounds through more hugs and kisses, before taking a sneaky moment as she crouches in front of the wardrobe, ostensibly rifling through bags.

Popping up, she spins back around with a grin before handing out presents - a dove grey silky kimono and a little jewellery box for each of them. Just a mere token for these incredible women and what they mean to her - not just today, but every day, through thick and thin.

Interrupted by a knock at the door, it's Lux, with Lou and her twin sister, Sam, in tow, plus Helene, bringing up the rear. The latter three are arriving to set-up their kits and get happily to work.

>

A couple of hours later, and they're making good progress.

Sitting quietly, folded into one of the low armchairs by the balcony doors, Eloise finally screws the lid back on the pen as she purses her lips and blows over the drying ink.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she scans back over her words, before hastily adding a cheeky post-script.

She can't help but smirk to herself, 'That's it, perfect'.

Reaching for the envelope, she scrawls just one letter, before standing up to appease Rosie's hurrying.

Folding the satisfyingly thick paper, she wrinkles her nose at the taste of the glue as she licks the envelope, then slides it safely into the pocket of her short white silky kimono.

Skipping over, she slips smoothly into the now-empty chair at the dressing table, and promptly hides her self-satisfied smirk behind the rim of her champagne flute before Rosie can catch her. It's a mimosa; practically all orange juice.

Rosie had been eager to get started on her make-up for a while now, but Eloise needed to finish that letter without understandably curious eyes peeking over her shoulder.

Just as Rosie steps to stand in front of her and get to work, Eloise twists out of her reach, leaning around her, to catch Gemma's attention.

She's just returning to the suite; having taken the opportunity to both check-in with Isabella and take an increasingly fractious Ruby out for a quick change of scenery.

Interpreting Eloise's signal - wiggling fingers with her palms outstretched - Gemma redirects from heading to Mer, who's sat alongside Malin at the desk on the opposite wall; both intently focused on finishing their own make-up.

With a babbling Ruby on her lap - for now, happily distracted, scribbling on the pad of hotel stationery - Eloise settles back and looks in the mirror, just in time to catch Lou's eye as she returns too.

With a beaming smile, she strides over and tosses her kit bag on the dressing table, then promptly throws her arms around Eloise in a huge hug and plants a big, lip-smacking kiss to her cheek. "That was from lover boy", she grins, squeezing her shoulders, before standing back up and getting straight to work.

Unfurling the sleek, blow-dried curls from their rollers, she needs to start the laborious task of pinning Eloise's hair up in an up-do.

>

Keeping stock still for Rosie, Eloise tries to keep her one opened eye from watering as Anne emerges from the ensuite, looking beautiful in a navy, hammered silk, midi dress.

Catching her gasp and beaming smile, Anne heads closer once she's bashfully accepted everyone else's compliments, and bends down alongside Eloise. "I'm just going to go and check in on that my boy of mine. Any messages for him?".

Smiling bashfully, Eloise slides the envelope from the pocket of her gown. "Would you mind just giving him this for me, please? And a kiss too?".

With a knowing look and a familiar scrunch of her nose, Anne drops one of her own to her cheek, squeezing her hand as she stands back up. "Of course, darling... But I won't be held accountable for any tears!", she waggles a finger playfully at her.

Not yet braving her statement strappy sandals, she digs in the wardrobe for a pair of hotel slippers before heading for the door, trailed by Helene.

>

Arriving at his room, Anne barks a laugh at Niall's predictably cheeky greeting - "Ooh la la!" - only to feel immediately teary, catching sight of the rest of Harry's ushers around the room, plus Crispin and Des.

As the others finish attending to their hair or clothes in the various mirrors, it's the latter pair who head straight over to pull her in for hugs, complimenting her dress

The ushers - Ben, Ollie, Lucas, Jeff, Mitch and Niall - all look handsome in dove grey suits with crisp white shirts and pale blue ties.

They too soon pause from their titivating to make a fuss over Anne and shower her with compliments.

Noticing the distinctly less raucous tone to their chatter, Harry steps to the doorway of the ensuite, whilst dousing himself in Tom Ford's finest.

Anne immediately chokes a sob when she lays eyes on him.

With a beaming smile, he tosses his cologne back into his wash bag then strides over, pulling her into a tight hug before stepping back and admiring how incredible she looks. He tells her so.

"Me?", she scoffs softly, looking him up and down in awe. "H, look at you! My goodness, you look so handsome!", she lifts a hand to cradle his cheek. Clocking his deeply dimpled smile and crinkling, shiny eyes, she adds, "And just bursting with happiness, too!".

"I am", he nods eagerly. "I thought I'd be nervous, but I'm just so excited! How's El doing? It's so odd not being able to talk to each other".

"Oh, don't worry, she's in exactly the same state as you - happy and relaxed and delightful and excited and eager to get on with it", she grins up at his predictably moony expression. "She's missing you though; so desperate to speak to you, that Adele confiscated her phone... So she asked me to give you this". She hands over the envelope, adding in forewarning, "But brace yourself! I imagine it'll be way more potent than the one she somehow left on my pillow last night... Let me tell you, I sobbed-".

"She's got a way with words, hasn't she?", Harry grins proudly. "Did she give you both barrels!".

"God, yeah, and then some...!", Anne laughs.

"Well, what did she say?", he can't help but ask.

Anne reaches for his hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. "Just a lot of the sweetest and most meaningful things anyone's ever said to me, to be honest...". She wells up again, just thinking about it - all that Eloise had said about him, and, by extension, about her, and her parenting and the example she sets.

Mulling it all over again for a beat, she looks at him closely, taking in every detail of his handsome features and the intent expression across his face, committing it to memory.

"She's just perfect, H! Utterly perfect for you... You know I'm so, so proud of all that you are and everything you do and everything you've achieved, but, Harry, that someone as wonderful as she has chosen you, just fills me with so much pride", she swallows thickly. "I couldn't be happier for you; for both of you".

Stepping closer, she reaches up to kiss his cheek before finally pressing the envelope into his palm.

Crisp, white, heavy-weight stock, with just a black 'H' scrawled in her distinctive looping cursive.

Not quite trusting his voice, after a grateful peck to his mum's cheek, Harry moves aside and props a shoulder against the frame of the balcony door, taking a settling breath after drinking in the spectacular view.

Anne squeezes his arm then backs away, crossing the suite to the boys, allowing him some space whilst she gives them all a once over, ensuring they pass muster.

Her smaller fingers prove a God-send in pinning the fiddly buttonholes.

>

After a minute or two, Harry captures their attention as he clears his throat, then sucks in a ragged breath, carefully refolding the letter and returning it to its envelope.

Eventually spinning on his heel to face them, he slowly lets out that deep breath. Pulling his mouth into a comical grimace, he chuckles lowly, "Jesus! That very almost got me".

Fanning the envelope in front of his shining eyes for effect, he then slides it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. With a hand tapping against it, against his heart, he clears his throat again and steps closer. 

"Oh, go on, read it to us...", Ollie heckles, lending some levity.

"Not a chance in hell!", Harry ducks out of his reach.

A blush colours his cheeks as Lucas and Ben join in with playful brotherly advances before Crispin calls them off, grinning at the four of them with Eloise's same smile. It's always reassuring, if slightly disconcerting, Harry can't help but think.

Once Anne affixes a white gardenia to Harry's buttonhole, Helene stops from snapping photos of the other guys - some candid and some a little more orderly - and turns her attention to mother and son.

She gets some beautiful, poignant shots as they whisper softly to one another whilst Anne fixes his tie, and then again as they share a long embrace.

>

When Helene moves on to capture some shots of Harry with all the guys, he turns back to Anne and surreptitiously slides the envelope from his pocket. Pressing a kiss over the print of Eloise's rosy lipstick, he hands it back. "Please can you slip that into my big leather holdall, back in our room, before the staff ferry our stuff over to the villa later? It should still be by the wardrobe".

"Of course", she kisses his cheek again. "And I won't peek, I promise!".

As Jeff finally gets off his phone again, Harry whips around to him nervously. "Any news? Or are we still good?".

After some chatter from eagle-eyed Italian fans and journalists after the London flight filled with such an ostensibly bizarre mix of recognisable faces, it didn't take long for some people to suspect a link to Harry and Eloise. It's doubly suspicious, apparently, because he didn't appear at the Gucci show at Milan Fashion Week, as expected.

But, as yet, Isabella and Lorenzo haven't heard anything from the local rumour mill around town, nor been approached by any journalists yet, so there's still hope that they just might get away with it.

After checking the time on Harry's watch - his fanciest, a vintage gold Audemars Piguet - Anne makes her excuses. "I should get back. I don't want to miss seeing Eloise in her dress before we need to head down. I'll no doubt be such a mess I probably won't see her through my tears on her way down the aisle!".

Before Anne can start heading for the door, Harry grabs hold of her hand whilst stretching to reach his bag on the bed. After a quick rummage, he turns back to her. "Will you give El this, for me?", he hands over a card and a small wrapped gift.

After offering to escort Anne back downstairs, Crispin pulls Harry in for a tight hug before gathering up his bags to return them to their suite.

With final kisses and a long, tight hug and whispered words for Harry, Anne casts a final glance at him over her shoulder as she leaves the room... Her baby will be a married man the next time she speaks to him. Wow.

>

Rosie had finished up Eloise's make-up, just as Lou pinned up the last of her hair.

As Elin and Malin attend to Ruby whilst Mer finishes getting ready, and a frazzled Lou hastily sorts herself out at the dressing table, Gemma helps tidy up her and Rosie's kits, before circling the room, topping up champagne flutes.

Clacking into the marble-tiled bathroom in her heels, brandishing the bottle of Dom Perignon, Gemma gasps and halts her playful shimmy mid-stride.

"Holy shit, sorry! ...But holy shit!", she gapes, eyeing her up and down.

Craning over her shoulder, Eloise's cheeks flush pink.

She's in just a strapless, white, silk bustier with a low-cut back, and skimpy, white, high-cut, ruched silk knickers. With her blonde hair pinned up, there's seemingly acres of tanned skin, ample cleavage and long legs on display.

"For the record, my little brother is massively punching above his weight with you!", Gemma gapes, copping an eyeful.

Cackling from her perch on her knees at Eloise's feet - perfecting the white silk ribbon bows on her embellished strappy Jimmy Choo stilettos - Adele pipes up. "She claims she's the one punching with him!".

Busy perving over her legs as she situates the pale blue silk garter belt, adjusting it to sit high enough on her thigh to avoid anyone sneaking a peek, Rosie scoffs a laugh. "We're not still bothering to point out all the reasons why they're perfect for each other, are we?".

Swatting at her hands and squirming at the attention in quite such a state of undress, Eloise tries to change the subject. "Ro, is Jason dropping Jack off here soon? I found the bag from Alessandro with his little bow tie earlier; it's on the desk. It's adorable!".

>

It's just after midday when Anne, Crispin and Helene arrive at the suite, just in time for the big reveal.

Once Rosie and Adele file out of the bathroom, they get a glimpse of the bridesmaids together - all finally dressed and pretty much ready.

They're in silver tonal gowns of varying complementary designs. Eloise had been adamant about them each having free reign to choose whichever style they'll feel most comfortable in.

Gemma looks as stylish as you'd expect, in a sharp-shouldered tuxedo mini dress in a dove grey, hammered silk with an embellished lapel.

Adele looks absolutely incredible in an off-the-shoulder, sequin-topped dress with a white, floaty, pleated skirt.

Rosie is poured into a low-backed grey embellished bodice, with a silver knee-length, bias-cut, silk skirt; flashing some leg with dangerously high slits to either side, and a statement pair of heeled mules.

Malin also flashes a little leg; in a strapless, multi-tonal silver sequin shift, and boosting her petite frame with a pair of absolutely killer heels - her attempt at taking on the Amazonian-by-comparison trio of Eloise, Rosie and Adele.

Mer's silky pewter dress has a silver-sequinned sash drawing the eye to her bump. And its midi length shows off some ambitiously high sandals.

Ruby - still just a couple of months shy of her second birthday - is absolutely adorable in a little white taffeta dress, silver sandals, and a tiny flower crown atop her short dark curls.

Lux rocks her simple white sequinned shift dress with a pair of silver metallic Dr. Marten boots. Under her floral crown there's a pale pink tint to her usually fair hair.

Helene snaps candid photos as they all mill about, gushing over each others' dresses whilst attending to their final touches.

Then, a flash of white pulls their attention, and everyone promptly cranes around towards the bathroom door, gaping in awe.

The girls had first seen the dress last night, but this is their first glimpse of Eloise wearing it.

Poor Crispin is rendered entirely speechless; mouth agape and eyes watering.

Heaven help Harry.

After the stunned silence eases into thick swallows, suspicious sniffs, gasps and coos, Eloise braves a look up from straightening out her skirt.

As they all break into a chorus of cheering, gushing and babbling, her shy grin blooms into a beaming smile, with a pretty blush flushing her cheeks beneath Rosie's flawless make-up job.

After a giggling barrage of careful, teary hugs, she reaches her dad last.

With his arms outstretched, Crispin takes a hold of her hands and casts his eyes over her, with his identical smile plastered firmly across his face. "Oh, my beautiful girl... I'm absolutely speechless! You look stunning, Lolly".

Giving her some time with her parents and Anne, the girls back off, buzzing around, gathering their things and tidying up.

After dabbing her eyes and checking her make-up, Anne hands over Harry's card and gift.

The three of them can't help but watch as Eloise's sparkling blue eyes pour over his words. Her glass face tells them all they need to know - happy, overcome, amused, so in love.

Barking a laugh, she shakes her head then clutches the card to her chest before lifting it to her lips and leaving a rosy pink kiss.

Tucking the card and envelope under her arm, she carefully unwraps the present and cuts her eyes up to them in shock at the sight of the red Cartier box.

With a fortifying deep breath, she opens it to reveal a beautiful pair of teardrop diamond earrings. Beautiful, sparkling, elegant; they're simply stunning. God, he spoils her rotten.

After turning the box towards them, she steps closer to the dressing table mirror. Taking out her smaller, everyday diamond studs, she triple-checks the fastenings are secure, before stashing the card and jewellery box in her bag, open on the bed alongside Harry's, which Crispin had brought back from Niall's room.

"Oh, they're gorgeous", Elin gushes as Eloise turns back, proudly showing off her new earrings.

"They can be your something new!", Anne claps excitedly. "Are you all set for something old, borrowed and blue?", she checks.

Eloise twists again, pointing to the antique floral silver comb securing her hair in place. "Old", she confirms. It's her grandmother's, and her mum wore it on her wedding day too.

Turning back, she points to her mum's diamond tennis bracelet - a present from Crispin on their wedding day. "Just borrowed, I promise!", she grins at them. "And, umm, yes... I'm all set for something blue", she blushes again.

Stepping close to smooth out the delicate strap of her dress, Elin whispers softly to her daughter in a rare, special moment. "You really do look incredible", she smiles at her, wistfully. "And Happy Anniversary! Gosh, four years already...".

Eloise giggles a little sheepishly, cutting her eyes to Anne, too. "I guess it's about time I relinquish this date for our wedding anniversary, and admit he was always right about the 4th of July... I've made him stew long enough, and benefitted from more than enough double celebrations already", she grins guiltily.

But she's soon distracted, as Helene calls them over.

Now that Rosie has successfully managed to wrangle Jack into his adorable little pageboy outfit - grey trousers, white shirt, white Vans, grey suspenders and a pale blue bow tie - they're ready for the more formal photos.

>

After Gemma calls Ben to check the coast is clear, and after a final toast to finish off the champagne, they all start making their way downstairs.

The mums and bridesmaids leave first, with Lux, Ruby and Jack too.

Once Eloise casts a final eye over her and Harry's bags on the bed - ready for the hotel staff to transfer them to the honeymoon villa later on - Crispin holds a hand out for her. "Come on then, suppose we best make an honest woman of you... Finally!", he teases.

Having paused for him to fix her veil, hand over her bouquet and offer his arm, Eloise steps through the door and out of the confines of the suite for the first time all day.

Seeing that half the girls are still waiting for the lift down the hallway, after checking his watch, Eloise nods her head towards the grand central staircase. "I might start getting nervous if we have to stand around waiting", she admits.

"Will you be alright on the stairs in your heels?", he worries.

"I scored the soles, but maybe hold tight, just in case? I can't exactly see my feet", she chuckles, tightening her grip on the crook of his arm.

Making their way slowly down in wide, sweeping circles, the floors melt past as Crispin chatters eagerly, intent on keeping Eloise distracted to avoid any late onset of nerves. But he keeps it light, for now.

He's given her more than a few pep talks in his time; his first rodeo, this is not.

Finally reaching the ground floor, hotel staff scurrying around halt and even bow as they pass.

After stepping on to the main terrace and out into the warm Autumn sunshine, they slowly make their way down all the staircases, through the patios and terraces.

As they descend, the sound of the chattering guests and soft background music filters up to them increasingly clearly, making Eloise's excited butterflies positively start swarming as they near ever closer

>

When they finally reach the far end of the pool deck, where the girls are waiting for them in formation, Crispin has to tug Eloise back before she risks too eagerly rounding the top of the final wide, sweeping stone staircase down to the garden.

Leaning forward, he lends Gemma a hand in trying to catch their attention.

His distinctive whistle successfully has Ollie twisting around from where he stands with Lucas. Loitering near the end of the long aisle, they've been double-checking the head count to ensure all the guests are present and accounted for.

With a grin and a thumbs up, he spins on his heel, nudging his brother and heading down the aisle to alert the others.

It's game time.


	6. Part F

A/N: Here it is! A word of forewarning - I actually shed a tear or two writing this, and I hardly ever cry, so, umm...!! Xx

24th September 2019 (continued)

At the foot of the Grand Palazzo, on the lowermost terrace, a level beneath the pool deck, lies the garden. A lush stripe of lawn stretches out alongside a tall stone retaining wall, lined with clutches of lemon trees. The slight gradient at the far end gives the illusion of it reaching all the way down the hillside to the Mediterranean Sea, which sparkles enticingly under the midday sun.

Italy has blessed them with a balmy Autumn day. With a perfect blue sky, and the sun warm but not too intense, a fresh and gently salt-tanged breeze floats up the hillside, mingling with the freshly cut grass and the scent of lemon, eucalyptus and floral blossoms in the air. It's incredibly beautiful, and fragrant too.

They're all set up for the ceremony. Golden flagstones, matching the Palazzo's terraces, line the lengthy aisle, which is edged with strewn white petals and scattered tall glass hurricane lamps, housing flickering white candles. To either side, banks of folding, white wooden chairs are jazzed up with tulle ribbons, which dance gently in the breeze.

At the end of the aisle, on a raised platform, stands a simple white lectern, draped in pretty white flowers and green foliage. Beyond that lies a wooden archway, dressed in green eucalyptus leaves and all the pretty white magnolia and dahlia blossoms they didn't go for in their wedding flowers. And then, of course, there's the magnificent view out to sea.

>

Harry had been curating the ceremony playlist for weeks, painstakingly compiling some of his favourite old songs to play quietly throughout the ceremony. They'd settled on some hallowed classics. Stand By Me by Ben E. King, At Last by Etta James, The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack, and Songbird by Fleetwood Mac. Otis Redding's My Lover's Prayer will kick in during the signing of the register, and then play on a loop, to serve as the recessional.

For now, as the guests mill around and take their seats, Pachelbel's Canon in D Major plays over the speakers as a prelude. The familiar orchestral piece has been played at possibly almost every wedding, but, for good reason. It's beautiful and more than fitting for everyone's eager, happy mood.

Notoriously early for everything, Harry has been hanging around for twenty minutes already. And that's on him; it's not yet 1pm, so Eloise is by no means running late.

He has bidden his time by greeting as many of the guests as he can manage, with quick yet courteous "hello's".

He's been ribbed by Louis and Liam; sassed by the likes of Grimmy and Michal; preened by Lou, and also Alessandro and Harry Lambert - despite both of them supposedly being off duty today. After a quick pep talk from Stevie, he even had his cheeks pinched by Eloise's petite Swedish grandmother.

Once the majority have taken their seats, chattering happily and bubbling with excitement and anticipation, Harry stops playing host and heads up the aisle to stand with Isabella and his ushers, in front of the floral arch at the end of the aisle.

After he addresses their guests and thanks them all again for coming, Ben pipes up too, reminding everyone not to post any photos to social media yet.

It makes Harry squirm and feel a little bashful. It's only their nearest and dearest in attendance, and they all understand the kind of intrusion they have to deal with sometimes, but he can't help but worry if they think they're being divas about it.

When he looks back up again, Harry catches Helene crouching in the aisle, with her lens trained on him. That must mean Eloise is ready and close by. Shit, it's nearly time.

Over Helene's head, he easily spots the hulking figures of Ollie and Lucas, heading back towards him, now done greeting guests and handing out printed orders of service. They've got a full house.

With a signal and a big grin, Ollie confirms it.

It's showtime.

>

After a final quick huddle and some words of reassurance, Harry takes his place at the top of the aisle as his ushers fan out at his side; Ben, then Jeff, Mitch, Niall, Ollie, and finally, Lucas.

Canon in D Major loops again to carry through to the beginning of the processional, for their mums and then the bridesmaids make their entrance.

He serves up a signature dimpled smile as his mum and Elin start heading down the aisle towards him, arm in arm.

Stepping forward, he takes each of their outstretched hands with a squeeze. And, with kisses to their cheeks, gallantly guides them to their seats, before stepping back up to his place.

Trying to avoid catching any of the hundreds of eyes trained on him, he starts to feel the first flutter... Not nerves, per se, but definitely a sense of eager anticipation.

Isabella, the hotel owner, and also officiating their ceremony today, angles the microphone on her lectern and addresses the crowd of guests for the first time. "Welcome, ladies and gentleman! Thank you for joining us for this most special occasion. Please can I ask you to now be upstanding, for the entrance of the bridal party?".

Straightening his suit and tie, and raking a slightly shaky hand through his hair, Harry takes a moment to centre himself.

He's certainly faced up to far more intimidating crowds and venues - this literally being a gathering of the friendliest faces - but this sense of occasion is entirely unparalleled.

With a final deep breath, he sets his shoulders and clasps his fidgety hands in front of him. Then, he looks up...

It's the little ones first.

Lux and Ruby are bedecked in floral crowns, pretty white dresses and silver shoes. Jack is in little grey trousers, with tiny white Vans, a white shirt, and a tiny pale blue bow tie. They're adorable.

Just having turned eight, Lux does a sterling job steering her two little toddling charges down the aisle. Walking nice and slowly, she reassures them all the while, reminding them to keep tossing petals from their little baskets.

Harry can't believe how grown-up she's suddenly become and beams proudly at her as they approach slowly.

Reaching to drop a kiss to her forehead and then point her to the far end of Eloise's front row, to a seat just in front of Lou and her family, he bends down to scoop up the little ones. After handing Jack to Jason, and Ruby to Elin, he steps back up to the front.

Mer and Malin appear side by side at the end of the aisle, then advance slowly; with Rosie and Adele then appearing and heading down a while after them.

They all look stunning, and he loves that their personalities shine through in their chosen dresses.

Again, he steps forward to greet them all with kisses to their cheeks and helps them up on to the platform to line up across from his ushers.

By the time he looks up again, Gemma's halfway down the aisle. He loves that her blazer-style dress is dove grey like his ushers' suits. He was so thrilled that Eloise asked her to be her Maid of Honour, but he appreciates feeling like she's on his side too.

Pulling her into a tight hug, he whispers in her ear. "You look amazing, Gem!".

She deflects his compliment, as is her wont. "Just wait till you see her! Good luck, little bro, love you lots".

Trading their similar smiles, he helps her up to stand alongside the other girls.

It feels unexpectedly reassuring, that she'll be so close.

Serving as a signal for everyone, Pachelbel fades out, segueing smoothly into Wagner's Bridal Chorus.

'Here comes the bride' indeed.

>

Harry has to fight the urge to hold his breath, awaiting his first, imminent, look at her.

He knows the track inside out now - having recorded this version on his piano at home a few days before they left for Italy, whilst Eloise was out running errands - so notices immediately when it loops again.

Just as panic starts to set in, envisaging potential reasons for her slight delay, he notices the guests start turning, row by row, craning their necks as appreciative murmurs ripple forward.

He catches his mum's bright smile and quick thumbs up before she too twists around eagerly.

Glancing down the line of bridesmaids and then ushers, all looking at him with broad smiles, he turns forward again, intent on not missing a moment.

Within seconds, it feels like the butterfly on his stomach is actually flapping its wings. He can hear his pulse roaring in his ears, and has to force himself to blink and breathe.

But he's ready. God, he's so ready for this.

Harry has not a single doubt about Eloise, nor their love, nor their future. But, still, he's surprised how momentous this feels... Like everything is about to change; permanently, but in the best possible way.

He gets his first glimpse of her as she rounds the corner to emerge at the end of the aisle.

Drinking it all in, he's intently focused on committing every detail to memory. It's like his senses go into over-drive, meticulously cataloguing it all in just a split second.

First to be revealed are sparkling, strappy heels, tied with a silky white bow at each ankle. Then a flash of long, tanned, toned leg through a split up the front of her skirt.

Casting his gaze upward, he takes in the luxurious drape of the pleated tulle. It's shapely and structured, as opposed to crazily voluminous, but definitely poofier than he anticipated. She hates being the centre of attention, so he presumed she'd go for a sleek and minimal silhouette.

But this beautiful dress makes a statement, for sure - an elegant yet modern nod to tradition. However, there's no mistaking that 'here comes the bride'.

At its silk waistband, the tulle skirt tapers into a delicate, nude, silky organza, sleeveless bodysuit, with white and silver embellishments keeping things modest.

The crisp, just ever so slightly warm white, sets off her golden tan, pale blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and beaming smile perfectly.

Holding a beautiful but modest bouquet of white gardenias and eucalyptus leaves, her engagement ring sparkles, catching the sunlight alongside the white silk ribbon trailing from the bow around the stems. An elegant diamond bracelet catches his eye too.

As she nears closer, through her simple, silk-trimmed veil, he can just about see that her blonde hair has been loosely pinned up in plaits, with a few soft tendrils drawing his eye to her long neck.

He clocks the new teardrop diamond earrings sparkling in her ears too. Phew, she must like them, then.

After quickly drinking her in, he gasps, mouth pulling into a beaming, dimpled smile - officially his mooniest ever - as his eyes lock with hers through her veil. Hers are equally as awed and enamoured.

She's stunningly made-up too; looking effortlessly natural and with an excited, pretty flush to her cheeks that he knows is all her own. Her bold blue eyes are shaded and lined for maximum impact, and her lips are a rosy pink that he just cannot wait to taste.

God, he hopes that's all waterproof... He doesn't much fancy either of their chances at keeping the waterworks at bay today.

He can't take his eyes off her, and is fairly sure he doesn't blink for the entirety of her slow glide down the long aisle.

It could have been fifteen seconds or fifteen minutes; he genuinely couldn't tell you.

>

Eloise feels like her heart is beating out of her chest, and she's fairly certain her breathing is a little irregular.

He looks incredibly handsome; literally, the best she's ever seen him. And bear in mind she fancies the pants off him, even in his rattiest old sweats.

She's only vaguely aware of snatches of commentary from guests as they pass, and her dad still whispering lowly in her ear... But, to be fair, that might be a defence mechanism, after all the lovely, gushing, proud, embarrassing chat he'd saved for their final sweep down that last staircase. She's intent on not ending up a blubbering mess today, and he had her worryingly close already. Rosie will be out for blood if she ruins her make-up.

No; her attention is entirely trained upon Harry. She couldn't peel her eyes off him if she tried.

Starting at the top, she drinks him in before his eyes find hers.

Lou evidently, somehow, found time to cut his hair earlier. It's shorter and more groomed than it's been in months. They both know how much she loved his styling from the Dunkirk press tour.

He's clean-shaven too, for the first time all week, which seems to make his enchanting green eyes pop all the more against his golden tan and pearly white smile.

Dropping her gaze, she's taken aback by his outfit.

A sleek and exquisitely tailored light blue suit and matching tie, contrasting with a white silk shirt and black boots - the patent leather Calvin Klein ones she loves, with the silver-capped tip bisecting the toe.

Hopeless romantic that he is, she just knows it's the exact shade he was referring to the other day - about her eyes in the morning light. It's pale, yet rich, and utterly beguiling.

As she nears closer, she can see more of the detail. The fabric is like nothing she's ever seen before; like a magical two-tone silk. It's not quite iridescent, but she can only describe it as to say that he looks like he's shimmering, glowing from within.

That said, she can't believe how relatively understated he looks. Incredible and, oh, so handsome, but definitely pared back.

Relatively being the operative word, of course; not many grooms could pull off a pale blue suit. But this is Harry we're talking about. And at Alessandro's hand. Definitely expecting more of a flared leg, or at least a ruffle or a pussy bow, she can't help but wonder if it was for her benefit.

Ironically, she'd gone for a slightly less understated dress than she originally intended, because she figured he'd be in something crazy enough to ensure all eyes would be trained on him. But, knowing how thoughtful he is, she's fairly certain this might have been his bid to ensure his bride remains centre stage.

Either way, she is absolutely not complaining. Wow.

>

In no time, Eloise reaches the end of the aisle, and, in a bid to shake her unsurprising distraction, her dad nudges her elbow and turns her towards him.

Lifting her veil, Crispin carefully pulls it back, then drops his hands to her arms as he kisses each cheek. Unable to resist, and finding the formality oddly disconcerting, he then throws his arms around her, sweeping her off her feet in delight, making the other guests chuckle.

The surprise move definitely helps her focus.

Finding her feet, she steps back from her dad, swallowing thickly with her eyes notably shiny.

"Don't waste them on me!", he chuckles lowly. "I love you very much, my darling, and wish you both every happiness".

Turning, he squeezes her hand as he pulls Harry into a tight, one-armed hug, before shaking his hand and then guiding it to take Eloise's. "Take care of her, son".

Swallowing thickly, Harry just about manages to prise his eyes off her, smiling gratefully, earnestly at her dad. "Always; I promise".

Helping Eloise to turn and step up to face Isabella at the lectern, they can't help but look at each other intently, drinking in the detail up close.

"Hi!", she giggles.

"Hi!", he chuckles. "God... I'm actually speechless".

He can't resist stepping forward and throwing his arms tightly around her. Intrigued to feel skin, he realises the bodice of her dress has a very low back, and can't wait to see what other surprises she might have in store for him.

They both need the grounding contact, but she's not entirely sure if he's then chancing his luck, or just operating purely on instinct, when he leans back, lifts a hand to her jaw and claims her lips with his own.

Again, she certainly won't complain.

But they quickly pull apart, both bubbling laughs at the hoots and exasperated cries of "Harry!" and "Not yet!" from their guests.

It lifts the mood nicely.

Trading grins, they turn back towards Isabella as she waits for the audience to settle down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry notices Eloise looking shifty and fidgeting with her bouquet. "You okay?", he whispers, leaning towards her slightly.

Juggling the flowers into her right hand again, she lifts her left up at him with a grimace. "I forgot to swap it earlier and now I can't seem to get it off", she whispers, waggling her engagement ring still on her left finger. "It's supposed to be the blessed band sitting closer to your heart, apparently", she pouts.

That's what had delayed them after descending the final set of stone steps. Crispin belatedly reminded her to swap her ring over for the ceremony, explaining she could then slide it back on top of the wedding band afterwards. Stalling, she'd tried brute force and then licking her finger, but, to no avail. Her dad had tried to shrug it off as an old wives' tale anyway, but her superstitious nature had been vexed; well, until she was then entirely sidetracked with the sight of Harry.

Reaching over, he too gives her ring a tug, but can't get it over her knuckle.

As he does, she realises he's entirely ringless, well, for now.

In her distraction, he takes her by surprise again when he bends and drops a kiss to her finger, before sucking hard on her knuckle, eyes cutting up to hers knowingly, cheeks hollowing.

At that moment, she's pretty relieved that they're not in a church, actually.

But, it does the job, and he manages to then slide her ring off, and then on to the fourth finger of her right hand instead.

"It feels weird there", she chuckles. "But thank you".

"It'll be back where it belongs in no time, don't worry baby", he runs his thumb over her ring as he holds on to her right hand.

With a final squeeze, he looks up at Isabella, and, seeing her smirking knowingly at them, offers hasty apologies.

>

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen", Isabella speaks clearly, gently amplified by the microphone. "May I begin by welcoming you all here today to this lovely setting - not that I'm at all biased!", she chuckles cheekily, to the crowd's amusement. "...For the marriage of Harry and Eloise", she pauses for some excitable whoops and cheering. "Today marks a new beginning in their lives together, and it means a lot to them both that you, their family and closest friends, are here to witness their wedding vows and celebrate their marriage".

"Right", she continues. "Let's get the legal bit out the way... Who presents this woman to be married to this man?".

"I do", Crispin stands up again briefly.

"Thank you, you may sit", Isabella nods at him before addressing Harry and Eloise, shifting her eyes to the crowd every so often. "Marriage is a desire by two people to share themselves and their experiences with each other, and a willingness to accept each other for who they are. It makes a commitment of friendship and mutual respect, and calls for honesty, patience, courage, and, of course, good humour. Marriage requires each partner to be there to support the other in all that they do... It requires both closeness and distance – the closeness of a couple growing together, but with enough distance to allow each partner to retain their individual identity. A good partner in marriage will be loving, caring and, above all else, a very best friend".

Still holding hands, Harry and Eloise can't help but turn and trade knowing smiles. This marriage lark doesn't sound like too much of a stretch.

They had chosen not to have any traditional readings during the ceremony - but the quiet backing track of classic love songs says quite enough - so Isabella carries straight on, addressing the crowd.

"It's one of my duties to inform you that this site has been duly sanctioned, according to law for the celebration of marriages. Now, you are here to witness the joining in marriage of Harry Edward Styles and Eloise Lily Cadogan... So if any person here present knows of any lawful impediment why they may not be joined in marriage, he or she must declare it now."

They both peek over their shoulders, pulling anxious faces and raising a chuckle from their guests.

"Phew, okay, nothing to declare. That's always a relief!", Isabella laughs too, appreciating the levity. "Can I ask you both to turn to face each other please, and hold hands... Well, fine, keep holding hands then!", she chuckles.

"Before you are joined in matrimony here today, I have to remind you both of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make... Marriage, according to the laws of the UK - and as legally extended here in Italy, by your approved Nulla Osta documentation - is the union of one person with another, voluntarily entered into, for life, to the exclusion of all others. These vows, which unite you as husband and wife, constitute a formal and public pledge of your love for one another".

"Harry, please repeat after me: 'I do solemnly declare, that I know not of any lawful impediment, why I, Harry Edward Styles, may not be joined in matrimony, to Eloise Lily Cadogan'".

He does, repeating it back after her, in five parts, voice low and slow.

"Now, Eloise, please repeat after me: 'I do solemnly declare, that I know not of any lawful impediment, why I, Eloise Lily Cadogan, may not be joined in matrimony, to Harry Edward Styles'".

She does too, enunciating clearly and trying to project her voice.

"Okay", Isabella claps. "That's the legal bit done, but this is now the really serious stuff, okay?", she warns them.

Both looking at her briefly, they nod and blow out deep breaths, whilst holding each other's intense gaze.

Addressing the crowd again, Isabella continues, in explanation. "Harry and Eloise have chosen not to write their own vows today, but, before I get on to the formal vows, promises and contracting words, they do have a little something they'd each like to say".

As with the details of the proposal, they're keen to keep their innermost thoughts and feelings just for themselves. So whilst they've made a few tweaks, they haven't gone to town in writing their own vows, but they couldn't let the opportunity slide entirely.

They'd agreed to keep it under wraps from each other, but made a pact not to agonise over it or write a script, but both had definitely given some thought as to what they wanted to say.

Isabella gestures to Harry before stepping back, giving them some space.

Clearing his throat, he takes a moment to drink her in again, tangling his fingers with hers.

Finally, after a weighty look and a habitual tug at his lips, he begins, again, low and measured. "I'm no match for you when it comes to wielding words, so I'll keep it simple... You are my rainbow, my sunshine, my temptress, my goddess. You are my best friend, my inspiration, my muse. You are, quite simply, the love of my life".

He pauses, taking in a deep breath and offering her a smile, despite the weighty sentiment. "I started to fall for you the very first time I met you... But I'm so glad that we waited for our perfect moment, and only embarked on this wonderful journey together when we were both ready for it... You are one of the very kindest people I have ever been lucky enough to meet, and you make me strive to be the best version of myself, and to keep on learning and growing... I don't know how I ever got so lucky, but I will fight to prove that I'm worthy", hearing a few sniffles and sobs from the front rows, he pauses.

Suppressing a grin, he's reassured to see Eloise is still with him; glassy-eyed, but intently focused, and actively fighting her natural reaction to blush and run a mile from any praise.

It gives him the confidence to give it both barrels, to close. "I adore you, Eloise, and I'll prove that to you every single day, for the rest of our lives... I can't wait to share everything with you, today, tomorrow, one day, and forever... I love you, so much".

With a sniff of her own, Isabella gestures to Eloise. "Gosh! When you're ready, love".

She, in turn, blows out a long breath and rocks back on her heels, as if physically reeling from the weight of his sentiment.

With his sweet words whirling around her brain, she ends up taking a similar approach.

"Oof...!", she casts a grin towards the front rows before focusing back on Harry, getting serious. "I love you, so very much, Harry... You are my cheerleader, my protector, my inspiration, my perfect match. You raise me up and you lift me up and you big me up. You are selfless in your love for me... You are a force for good in this world, and the source of everything I hold dear... You are a wonder - truly extraordinary. Your magnetism and charm blind me sometimes, but I know you'll always be there, holding my hand... I pinch myself every single day that you've chosen me, and I thank my lucky stars knowing I get to have you by my side for the rest of our lives. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth to keep it that way", she pauses, blowing out another breath, eyeing him intently. His green eyes are shimmering and sparkling, but they don't seem in danger of overflowing, so she continues. "You are my home... You are the love of my life, Harry. And I will love you forever... You're it for me, and everything to me. You and I...? Well, we were meant to be".

Swallowing thickly, Harry lifts their joined hands to his lips, dropping reverent kisses.

Both entirely moony, they beam brightly - eyes glistening with, as-yet, unshed tears.

He steps closer on instinct, "Can I ki-?". Then hesitating, he looks to Isabella. "Can I kiss her? Please".

She smirks and waves his question away, before gesturing to her lack of ceremonial dress. "I'm no vicar! Go for it".

Turning back, Harry lifts his hands to cradle Eloise's jaw; blazing green eyes flitting between her bold blues. "Can I kiss you? I need to ki-".

"Yes!", Eloise cuts him off with her lips, stepping closer and melting against him. The cheering, cooing and clapping from their assembled guests keeps them from getting carried away, but it's enough to ground them both again.

>

As they step back, with a blushing Eloise reaching to wipe some of her lipstick from his bottom lip. "You're perfect", he whispers.

Having given them a minute, Isabella clears her throat and speaks into the microphone. "Wow, okay! Please excuse the lump in my throat...".

She takes a deep breath and looks at Harry and Eloise in turn before addressing their guests again. "The solemn moment has come for Harry and Eloise to contract their marriage before you, their witnesses, families and friends".

"Harry, do you take Eloise to be your wedded wife, to share your life with her, and to love, support, and comfort her, whatever the future may bring?".

He beams at her, swallowing thickly. "I do", he nods his head eagerly, tailing into a chuckle of disbelief, making the guests titter too.

Isabella continues. "Harry, please repeat after me: 'I call upon these persons here present, to witness that I, Harry Edward Styles, do take thee, Eloise Lily Cadogan, to be my lawful wedded wife'".

Harry does, without a moment's hesitation, repeating the contract in three parts.

"And Eloise, do you take Harry to be your wedded husband, to share your life with him, and to love, support, and comfort him, whatever the future may bring?", Isabella continues.

"I do", she breaks into a beaming smile, "Absolutely!".

"Okay, then please repeat after me: 'I call upon these persons here present, to witness that I, Eloise Lily Cadogan, do take thee, Harry Edward Styles, to be my lawful wedded husband".

Eloise does, trying to contain her smile enough to get the words out clearly.

As they grin moonily at each other, Isabella continues, addressing their guests. "It's an ancient tradition for the bride and groom to exchange rings; the giving and receiving of which symbolises the continuity of their relationship, and the sharing of their lives together. A wedding ring is an unbroken circle, which symbolises an unending and everlasting love". She turns back to Harry and Eloise, "I ask you to wear your wedding rings as an outward sign of both the lifelong vows you will share, and also of the promises you make to each other today".

On cue, Ben steps forward and hands Harry Eloise's wedding ring - a gold eternity band, sparkling with tiny diamonds.

He takes it carefully, and, with slightly shaky hands, brings it to her unusually bare left hand.

Looking up, he holds her gaze as he slides it down to the base of her fourth finger slowly, as he begins to recite the words they'd memorised.

Speaking even more slowly than normal, his words drip with heavy, reverent sentiment. "I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage, and as a symbol of my love, trust and commitment. I promise to love, cherish, support, and care for you, above all others, for the rest of our lives together. In both good times and in bad, I will love and honour you - with respect, happiness, laughter, friendship, loyalty and kindness".

Swiping his thumb over her new ring, he keeps his eyes locked on hers as he lifts her hand to seal his promises, pressing a reverent kiss.

A grinning Ben steps closer again and playfully nudges Eloise - who's attention is still firmly fixed on Harry - to hand her his weighty gold band.

Cradling his larger hand in both of hers she takes one last look at it, completely bare. God, he really does have incredible hands.

Stroking the finger he's always kept bare for her, she takes his ring and slides it slowly to the base of the fourth finger of his left hand, needing to push a little more firmly to get it past his knuckle.

As she does, she recites the same promise, holding his intense gaze all the while. "I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage, and as a symbol of my love, trust and commitment. I promise to love, cherish, support, and care for you, above all others, for the rest of our lives together. In both good times and in bad, I will love and honour you - with respect, happiness, laughter, friendship, loyalty and kindness".

They'd been adamant about both saying exactly the same thing. To them both, it was perfectly simple; same marriage, same expectations, same promises. Eloise promising to "obey" was always going to be a non-starter from the off, but her writer's brain couldn't help but think the order of the words and some of the sentiment could do with a little polishing. And it felt fitting to end on kindness too.

Isabella continues, voice clear and singing out. "Harry and Eloise, you have both made the declarations prescribed by law and have made a solemn and binding contract with each other in the presence of the witnesses here assembled", she offers them both a bright smile. "It, therefore, gives me the greatest honour and privilege to now pronounce you husband and wife... And yes, Harry, you may kiss the- Oh, okay then!", she laughs along with the rest of their audience.

He hadn't waited.

Eloise can't contain her peal of bubbling laughter as he catches her lips, then leans over, bending her backwards but held firmly in his strong arms.

As they kiss, all their guests jump to their feet, cheering and whistling, overjoyed for them and moved by their heartfelt words and weighty vows.

Isabella stops clapping and speaks into the microphone again in an attempt to settle everyone back down. "Alright, alright! Now, please all be seated whilst the register is signed... Harry, if you can put her down for a minute? I just need your signatures...".

With an arm outstretched she ushers them to step around her lectern and explains where they need to sign. As they do, she gestures for Anne and Elin to join them. They sign too, as their formal witnesses.

Then, with the marriage certificate completed, Isabella guides them all back to their original places.

She rolls it up, pops it in a cylindrical tube and hands it to Harry with a playful flourish before adjusting her microphone again.

"I'm honoured to be the first to get to congratulate you both! I wish you a wonderful day today, a very long and happy marriage, and all the very best for your future together". Addressing their gathered guests, she gestures with her arms wide. "Ladies and gentleman, please stand, and join me in wishing a very hearty congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Styles!".

Against the odds, and losing a number of people - in both the bridal party and amongst the guests - a fair bit of money in wagers, neither Harry nor Eloise actually spilt any tears during the ceremony. They were both mighty close in places, but just too excited, and positively giddy.

Ollie definitely did, and Ben's eyes are suspiciously shiny; Mitch too, the sensitive sap.

And, in the front row, both Anne and Crispin are both unashamedly dabbing at their eyes with tissues too.

>

After another kiss - simply unable to resist - Harry offers Eloise his arm and they turn to face their families and friends.

With Otis Redding's My Lover's Prayer playing on a loop, they head down the aisle arm in arm; whispering and beaming and giggling and waving and married.

The bridal party proceed after them, paired off. Ben and Mer, with Ruby; Gem and Jeff; Ollie and Rosie; Lucas and Adele; Malin and Mitch; Niall and Lux.

They are followed by their parents, and then the rest of the guests start filing out too.

Off towards the right, behind the last row of seats, Harry and Eloise barely have a moment to catch their breath before everyone else bundles in too.

It's a joyous and messy gaggle, but they don't let go of their tight hold on the other's hand; Eloise thumbing Harry's new ring all the while.

They wave and call out quick "Hello's" and "Thank you's" in response to the effusive congratulations as everyone files past, heading towards the stairs and the waiters standing ready with trays of champagne.

The others follow too, as James, acting as compere, issues instructions and directs traffic from the foot of the stairs.

Hanging back whilst everyone else gets organised, Harry and Eloise are then embraced by Isabella and Lorenzo. Thanking them for everything so far, they have them promise they'll join them at a table for lunch and for the party later.

Then, spotting his opportunity, Harry tightens his hold of Eloise's hand before striding away, leading her to the other side of the huge stone retaining wall for a little privacy.

With a startled yelp, she tugs him back; just as eager, but needing to slow down a little as her heels sink into the grass.

Bracing one hand against the stone wall over her shoulder, he wraps his other arm around her waist, hand splayed across her bare back, and steps close, crowding her.

Pausing for a beat, his eyes pass hungrily over her features, drinking her in.

Swallowing thickly, a disbelieving chuckle bubbles up his throat making her giggle too.

"Aren't you going to kiss me then?", she grins, too happy to be able to try and muster a cheeky smirk.

"I'm never going to stop kissing you, Mrs. Styles... You've just signed up to forever of this".

Swooping in, this time, he doesn't hold back.

She's immediately grateful that he's already holding her up, as she'd have properly swooned at that - both her new surname, and the promise of forever with him.

>

With impressive volume, James corrals the large crowd squeezed on to and around the wide stone steps. "Anne, Gem! Closer to the front, please... And, Grimmy? Move over a bit, clear the path up the middle!".

Hearing him, Harry dejectedly pulls back from Eloise, dropping his forehead to hers as they both catch their breath.

After ensuring she has her feet back under her, he takes a step back and gallantly holds out his hand as she straightens her skirt.

They round the corner again, just as James announces them. "Please, raise your glasses for Mr. and Mrs. Styles! Shower them with your love as they pass!".

Laughing gleefully, they skip up the stairs, hand in hand. Squeezing up the narrow path left between their exuberant guests, they're doused in a joyous shower of petals, confetti, cheers, congratulations and love. 

A/N: I hope the descriptions did it all justice, but if you have Wattpad you can check out some images and mood boards! My username on there is E_L_C_01


	7. Part G

24th September 2019 (continued)

As the guests mingle on the top terraces - enjoying the warm early afternoon sunshine whilst quaffing champagne and hoovering up antipasti and canapés from passing waiters' trays - Helene corrals the bridal party around the grounds.

Harry had wanted her to have the day off, but she'd been insistent, and even begged to let it be her gift to them.

He and Eloise are now both more than happy to have caved. They've done hundreds of photo shoots between them, but she's one of a kind. Observational, unobtrusive and discrete, she captures beautiful candid shots as they chat and fool around with their families, ushers and bridesmaids.

Chilled, low-key and fun, with a killer eye, the petite blonde surreptitiously skirts around them, snapping away. It keeps them all relaxed and focused on each other, and the photos are all the more beautiful for it.

Only having to issue a handful of instructions and requests, she captures a raft of incredible shots, swiftly covering off all the combinations.

Harry and Eloise with their parents, immediate families, ushers, and bridesmaids, and as a larger group; in the gardens, on the sweeping internal and external stone staircases, and, finally, up on the roof terrace, with that incredible view.

As they move around the hotel, she keeps her viewfinder trained on the happy couple, getting scores of photos of them; gazing, smiling, laughing, holding hands, cuddling and stealing kisses.

They're both surprised when, finally caving to Lucas and Niall pleas to head back down to the bar, she claps her hands and trills in her soft French accent that she's done with them.

>

As they emerge downstairs, stepping out on to the packed terrace, there's a cheer from the assembled guests. All turning their heads in sync and shifting forwards, eager to embrace the happy couple, the effect is a little intimidating.

When Eloise comes to a sudden halt, grinning but taken aback, Harry accidentally knocks into her, reflexively wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her on the edge of the top step.

"Ready to meet your adoring public?", he whispers in her ear, before dipping his head to drop a kiss to her neck.

Niall interrupts them, nudging Harry over to lean in close between them. "Shite! Eleven o'clock, back of the terrace...", he sing-songs lowly in warning.

Both looking up surreptitiously, Harry spots them first - Louis, Liam and Zayn, in conversation.

The body language isn't massively encouraging. Zayn's in the middle, slouching against the stone balustrade. Louis stands to one side, arms crossed a little defensively. Liam appears to be talking a mile a minute, gesticulating wildly. Maya and Eleanor stand just off to one side, keeping a close eye.

"We should get this over with and try to clear the air", Harry mutters to Niall after cursing under his breath.

"Go", Eloise nods, "It'll be fine! I'll check off the Swedes then make my way over". She leans around Niall to peck a kiss to Harry's lips as she squeezes his hand in encouragement.

Casting an eye over the depth of the crowd in front of them, arms already outstretched towards them, Harry claps Niall on the shoulder. "Mate, it might take me a while to get through, but I'll join you as soon as I can, alright?".

Scanning the crowd as he steps down, he then spins and addresses Niall again, nodding to the other side of the terrace. "Grab Kendall and Gigi from over by the bar on your way, they'll help".

He's one step ahead of him - already offering his arm to Anne, intent on rallying all the friendly faces he can muster.

>

Having been pulled from pillar to post trying to make his way through the crowd, Harry eventually joins them.

Eyeing them keenly as he nears, things appear civil enough. Whilst Niall holds court, he can sense the slightly sassy vibes radiating from Louis' posture, and Liam's a bit over-exuberant - always a tell when trying to mask his nerves. Zayn's smiling softly, but, still hunched against the railing, doesn't exactly look at ease.

"Oh, here he is! The man of the hour", Niall hollers and they all spin and cheer, a little relieved.

"Hey, where's your better half?", Louis heckles.

"Don't tell me you've lost the missus already?", Liam elbows him, laughing garrulously.

Shooting Zayn a knowing look, Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly. The brotherly ribbing goes a long way to making things feel normal.

"Congratulations, bro, the ceremony was beautiful", Zayn says quietly, stepping forward to shake his hand.

Harry tugs him into a hug. "Thank you. And thank you for coming, really. It means a lot", he whispers lowly as he pats his back.

Stepping back and clearing his throat, he addresses the others, grinning as his mum plucks his left hand to coo over his shiny new ring again. "I, umm, lost her at the steps", he pouts, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Getting through that mob was like running the gauntlet!", he jokes, straightening his tie.

Hearing a familiar squeal and playful bark of laughter, Harry turns again, orienting her, still in the front corner. She evidently hadn't made it very far.

Planting a hand on Liam's shoulder for balance, he stretches up on to the balls of his feet for a better look.

But Lucas' booming voice soon clues him in. "Hey, Helene, we forgot one!". As he steps back, Harry catches a flash of white, as Ollie swings Eloise up into his arms.

Anne chuckles and nudges him with her elbow. "Oh, H, go and rescue the poor girl!".

>

Eloise squeals again as Ollie tips her forwards and tosses her up to adjust his grip at her waist and thigh, so her back is to his chest, stretched horizontally.

Reflexively, she grasps her lower arm across the front of her dress, worried about spilling out of her bustier. "Shit! Ol, please-", she yelps, reaching with her other hand to try to pull the halves of her skirt together, desperate to avoid the real risk of flashing everyone from both ends.

Ever looking out for her, Mer steps closer, relieving her of her bouquet. "Don't fight it Lol, they did it to me too!", she advises, swiftly tucking the top half of her tulle skirt under Ben's hand, where he has a hold of her legs.

Eloise gives up wriggling and beams at Helene, only smiling brighter when she sees Harry approach from over her shoulder.

But he's elbowed aside by Niall, with Liam hot on his heels. "Come on lads, I want that photo too! Quick, before she runs away!".

"Oh, come on!", she laughs, yelping as Ollie passes her over to the two of them as they hurry Zayn and Louis up.

"Guys, watch it!", Harry, laughs, stepping closer to tuck Eloise's skirt under Niall's hand, as Mer had done just before.

As soon as Helene confirms she has it, he steps straight back in again to quickly help her down from the boys' hold.

Folding her into his arms, flushed and laughing in his ear, he then pulls back and sweeps in for a kiss, raising cheers at catcalls from all around. He absolutely can't get enough of her today.

>

At Isabella's nod, bang on 3.30pm, James, acting as compère, announces that it's time to head up to the roof terrace for the wedding breakfast.

Ben and Gemma lead the way, excitedly ushering everyone up the last flight of the central stone staircase, to finally reveal the large rooftop to the rest of the guests.

There are gasps aplenty.

The entire terrace faces the sparkling Mediterranean Sea, with picture-perfect views down the hillside and along the lush Amalfi Coast.

The staircase spills out at its centre, which is dominated by an incredible, gnarly, old lemon tree, ringed by scattered bistro tables and chairs. Behind them, a long marble-topped bar stretches along the back wall.

To the left, a huge open-air fireplace dominates the end of the back wall, surrounded by yellow and white cushioned lounge chairs around low tables.

The other half of the terrace is currently crammed with three long tables, plus a top table sitting perpendicular on a little staged area at the far end. Wisteria-strewn pergolas provide dappled shade and a pretty canopy of lilac and green foliage overhead.

Each table is set, ready for lunch, and lined intermittently with candles in tall glass hurricane lanterns, surrounded by pretty floral centrepieces.

An eager crowd soon forms around two easels, where large mirrored frames reveal the seating plan in Malin's beautiful penmanship.

>

They're all seated by 3.45pm, and, after another nod from Isabella, James stands from his seat at the front of the table by the railing and reaches for the microphone.

He's so naturally engaging and commanding that Harry and Eloise hadn't hesitated when he'd offered to serve as Master of Ceremonies.

"Ladies and gentleman, please let me offer you a very welcome to this afternoon's proceedings! I will do my very best to keep things on track and on schedule, but, I'll admit, I'm already a bit tipsy, so I'd like to thank the wonderful Isabella in advance for the helping hand! Please all show her and Lorenzo some love for what has been already been an incredible day, and indeed the wonderful last few days too".

Once the clapping dies down, he carries on, warming up nicely. "Before the happy couple return and no doubt get all squirmy and awkward about it, let me also please remind you to not post any pictures to social media. They've entrusted us all with keeping the details of this very special day under wraps - and, remarkably, it has been, so far. So please all be mindful, and let them be the ones to reveal the big news to the world. Can we all do that for them?".

When the cheers of agreement abate, he gets a bit sassy. "Okay, okay, settle down! Now, I'm hungry, and you all look like you could do with something to help you sober up a bit...", he heckles, pointing at Anne, teasingly miming her throwing back champagne. "So, ladies and gents, without further ado... Please be upstanding, for the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Styles!".

Sweeps his left arm out, there's a cacophony as all the guests push their chairs back on the paved floor and clamber to their feet, all turning to face the staircase again.

>

"Baby... Babe... That's our cue!", Eloise giggles, craning her neck back, safe in the knowledge Harry has a firm hold of her, pressed up against the stone newel post at the bottom of the bannister.

Stretching forward, and pressing his hips more firmly into hers, he tries in vain to keep his lips on hers, but eventually relents with a defeated chuckle, dropping his forehead to hers as they catch their breath.

"Ahem! Mr. and Mrs. Styles, everyone!", they can hear James call again from the rooftop.

Lifting a thumb to swipe a smudge of rosy pink lipstick from his lower lip, she pouts. "Have you smeared that all over my face?".

"No, you're absolutely perfect!", Harry grins, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the tip of Eloise's nose before she nudges him back with a roll of her hips.

"Hmm, I wonder what could possibly have them distracted?", James continues his ribbing, effortlessly improvising and making the crowd laugh to buy them some time.

Once she has both a handful of her skirt and bouquet in her left hand, he grasps her right and they skip up the stairs side by side.

"Oh, for God's sake, Harold! Do put her down...", James cackles a laugh, before there's a cheer from the guests as they emerge. "Oh, finally!".

They step up from the sweeping curve at the top of the wide stone staircase with matching, beaming smiles.

Having safely reached the top, as Eloise drops her skirt back down, Harry slides forward and gestures to her with an outstretched arm. As she looks up, blushing and shaking her head at his theatrics, she reaches for his hand.

He promptly twirls her towards him, wrapping an arm across her hips, then dips her back, before leaning down to find her lips in a sweet kiss.

Their guests lap it up, cheering, whooping and whistling. 

Arching her neck back, she lets out a peal of surprised, joyful laughter before he pulls her back up to standing and pecks her lips again. "That's for cutting me off before I was ready just now!", he smirks against her lips.

"Oh, what a punishment!", she sasses back. "Come on", she nudges him forward.

Taking her hand, he weaves her on a merry dance down the narrow aisle between two of the tables towards the front. Their progress is slowed as everyone offers their congratulations again, reaching out for them as they try to squeeze past.

>

Once they embrace everyone at the top table and Harry pulls out Eloise's chair and helps her sort her skirt beneath the tablecloth, as he finally takes his seat alongside her, James steps back to the microphone.

"Right...", he rubs his hands with glee, "It's finally time to get to it! The speeches will be spread out amongst the courses, just to give you enough time to work your way through all the wine on the table so that you can really heckle Ben during dessert! But, first up, a wonderful man, who needs absolutely no introduction... Please, let me introduce you to the myth, the man, the legend, and the Father of the Bride, it's the one and only, Mr. Crispin Cadogan!".

James delivers his introduction in the lyrical style of a sports commentator, bigging him up, only to be dwarfed in his hug as he hands over the microphone.

Crispin's met with suitably wild applause. As a former England rugby captain and occasional television pundit, he's done enough gigs on the lucrative after-dinner speech circuit that they all know they're in for a treat.

"Thank you, Cordo", he claps a hand on James' shoulder where he sits just in front of him.

"Good afternoon, everyone! Firstly, let me offer you all another warm welcome, on behalf of the new Mr. and Mrs. Styles... It's so wonderful to see such an incredible bunch of people make the trip and support them - from Rome, London and Stockholm, and as far afield as New York, LA and Tokyo. It's been great fun getting to know you all over the last few days".

He steps forward, with a conspiratorial aside. "They had to be selective on numbers, you know? So you should all be thankful you made the cut, to be honest!".

Curtailing his signature bark of laughter, he reins it straight back in again. "But, unfortunately, there are some people who we so wish could be here with us to celebrate today... Please, raise your glasses, in a toast to Robin, to Sophie, to Harry's late grandparents - Mary, Beryl and Keith - and to Eloise's grandmother, Annette, too. They are all so loved and so missed; even more so at special occasions like this". He lifts his glass for a sip of champagne, taking a reflective moment to collect himself, as does everyone else.

Spinning slightly, he casts a glance to Eloise, who, leaning back from whispering in Harry's ear, startles, catching her dad's eye, and sits warily to attention - on guard.

"Now, she might be the picture of her mum, but, for those of you who don't know", he grins at her conspiratorially, "Lolly and I are actually an awful lot alike...".

He looks back to the guests, "We've always had a special bond, and I'd like to think I tend to have a fairly good idea of how she thinks and how she'll react to things... I know that, despite her choice of career, she hates being the centre of attention, so I know she'll be squirming in her seat over there...", he twists back to grin at her. "And wringing the tablecloth or her napkin or poor Harry's fingers in her hands right now".

Guiltily, Eloise lifts up their tangled hands up above the table as Harry, chuckling, leans over to kiss her temple.

Keeping his eyes on her, Crispin continues. "I cannot begin to put into words just what she means to me and how proud of her I am...".

Swallowing thickly, he turns back to the crowd in another aside, for some levity, "And I probably wouldn't make it past the first sentence without bursting into tears anyway! So, to save my own reputation as the big bad father in law..." - Mer promptly throws her head back laughing, earning a playfully scowling look from him - "Instead, I'll just focus on the man she's chosen and that should paint a bit of a picture for you".

Eyeing him guardedly, Harry tugs comically at his collar, sitting up straighter, and taking his arm off the back of Eloise's chair. Their double act goes down well with the tittering crowd.

"I'm lucky enough to have three amazing sons of my own...", Crispin begins again, promptly raising an eyebrow at Lucas' gloating from the other end of the top table, shaking his head in exasperation. "I used to sit back and try to envisage what a fourth would one day look like - someone of Lolly's choosing... But I can honestly say, the reality blew any preconceived ideas I had right out the water". He twists back to look at Harry, allaying his anxiety with a beaming grin and lifting his glass aloft.

"So, another toast, to Anne, and Des, for raising one of the most incredible young men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting".

Once the laughter dies down as James makes a play of jumping up to top up his glass, Crispin continues. "You'll all know, Harry, here, has more charisma in his little finger than most people could hope to ever have, and all wrapped up in, well, that package...", he gestures to him with a sweep of his outstretched arm and a fond roll of his eyes. "That could have been a disastrous combination... But, not only that, he's also kind and smart and caring and protective and funny".

"I first met him through Ben, as most of you probably know. He was just eighteen, but a global pop star, and, let me tell you, he was a hoot! But you can probably imagine what I said, a few years later, when Ben said he was thinking of setting them up...", he twists back to smirk at Harry, who tugs at the knot of his tie again.

"But it's safe to say I've eaten my words, and then some... H, I love you as if you were one of my own. But, mostly, I love how much you love Lolly", he beams at them as Eloise catches Harry's attention with her matching smile before dropping a quick kiss to his lips.

"On my own wedding day, my beautiful wife's father, Gunnar...", he gestures to him on the far table, amidst the Swedish contingent, "Alluded to something in his Father of the Bride's speech, about men and their daughters, and how, one day, he hoped I'd understand... And I do, Gunnar, I really do".

Crispin chokes up a little, in turn causing Harry to puff out his cheeks and fan his eyes. He even goes so far to slip off his tie and undo a few buttons.

When he finally looks back up, green eyes shining, he holds Crispin's meaningful dark gaze. "So, Harry, that's something I can only pray you'll get to experience for yourself one day... To really understand what this moment means".

Swallowing thickly, Harry nods slowly, intently. The few sniffs from along the top table, and some other guests too, suggest that more than a few others understand Crispin's stance - on that being the highest praise he could think to give Harry.

Smiling again as Eloise leans closer, tipping her head against Harry's cheek, Crispin continues. "You've been through a lot together already, and it's only made you stronger... I can only pray for smooth sailing and eternal happiness for you, from here on out. You both deserve nothing less".

Clearing his throat again, he blows out an exaggerated long breath, addressing the crowd for a final time. "Now, I know you're all starving, so all that's left for me to say, is, please, raise your glasses, to the new Mr. and Mrs. Styles".

As he returns the microphone to the stand, Harry and Eloise jump up and he sweeps them both into a tight hug before returning to his seat, between her and Anne.

>

A good hour and a half later, two courses in, with countless bottles of wine sunk between them all, Harry and Eloise can't help but wonder if they would have been wise to choose slightly stodgier fare.

After shared antipasto platters along the tables - bruschetta bites, prosciutto and burrata, bresaola, Caprese skewers, fried courgette flowers and grilled seafood - they'd started with intentionally small bowls of pea and asparagus risotto with a grilled scallop, then moved on to grilled sea bass or fillet of beef with roasted Mediterranean vegetables.

In hindsight, perhaps they should have increased the serving sizes, or at least the starchy carbs quotient.

Their suspicions, from the volume of their increasingly rowdy guests, were all but confirmed as soon as the pair jumped up between courses, working their way up the tables, checking in and chatting with all their guests.

Everyone's having a great time; a lot of people are very tipsy, and some are positively a bit shit-faced, already.

Lucas, James, Grimmy, Rita, Liam and Adele are all hollering back and forth from their places across the different tables. Whilst Harry's uncle appears worryingly ruddy-cheeked, Eloise's godfather keeps jumping out of his seat like a yoyo, meanwhile, her Swedish grandmother is asleep in her chair.

After catching Isabella's eye as the plates are cleared after the main course, signalling for more bottles of water for the tables, they're taken by surprise when James takes to the microphone again to introduce Ben.

Confused, Eloise is cut off before she can question Harry, quickly realising Ben's fairly tipsy himself.

He wastes no time in wrestling the mic off James. "Hell-ooo-o, it's me!", he addresses the eager crowd, grinning at Adele.

"I can see a few of you squinting at me in confusion - or maybe you're just drunk, or I am, I can't tell - but, no! I can confirm, I am in fact not Harry. We've done a little switcheroo of the running order, but all will be revealed later", Ben teases, promptly spinning on his heel to level a look at Eloise. "But don't worry your pretty little head over it!", he offers her a knowing, shit-eating grin whilst Harry bites his lip to contain his own smile, refusing to meet her questioning eye.

"Now, in case anyone doesn't know, I'm playing a slightly dual role on the bridal party today. I'm honoured to be Harry's Best Man, but I'm also Eloise's eldest brother. And, like any meddling brother and best mate should be, I've made it my business to stick my nose into their relationship from the very beginning... Well, what I thought was the very beginning!", he spins back again, narrowing his eyes at Harry, who makes a play of pretending to slide off his chair to hide under the table, looking suitably sheepish.

"You see, regardless of job titles and blood ties and lengths of servitude, these two happen to be two of the very best people on the entire planet. And they're two of my absolute favourites, so, in my eyes, they're just about the best couple ever". He pointedly ignores James' howl of protest from his seat just in front of him. 

"I am immensely proud of both of them, and forever awed by them and all their accomplishments". He pauses for enthusiastic cheering and hollering from the crowd as a touched Harry and Eloise trade bashful, modest smiles.

"So where can I possibly begin? It has to be the very beginning, right?", he twists and smirks at Harry again. "The first thing H, here, said to me the very moment he first laid eyes on my little sister - at just eighteen, at a film premiere - was 'I'm going to need to marry her one day'... Right?!", he nods along at the outburst of cooing from the crowd.

It's news, too, to Eloise, who promptly turns to look at Harry, mouth agape, eyes crinkled in fondness. Until Ben cuts back in, holding up a finger.

"Well, technically, that was the second thing he said... Immediately following up something far less charming and way less appropriate to repeat here", he nods along as everyone guffaws with laughter. "But", he grins, "Suffice to say, it did earn him a slap in the nuts", he turns back to Harry with a shit-eating grin, barking a laugh to see him blushing and squirming, trying to avoid the teasingly affronted attention of Eloise and Crispin.

"Now, to be honest, I find myself slightly at an impasse here... I haven't got a hope in hell of taking on the emotional sucker punch of my Dad's speech. And, as he made a huge deal out of, I had a hand in these two getting together in the first place, so I can't exactly let rip and reveal all of Harry's deepest, most embarrassing, heinous secrets without looking like an utter twat, now, can I? That would make me a terrible son, big brother and best mate...", he counts off on his fingers, hamming it up for the crowd.

"I'm a bit screwed here, aren't I? So, then, I was thinking I could just give Lolly some grief, seeing as Dad let her off so lightly...", he shrugs, as Lucas and James' enthusiastic heckling drowns out Eloise and Harry's protests. "But, for anyone not in the know, Harry has a fierce right hook, and my own wife will castrate me if I dare to embarrass my little sister on her wedding day". He throws his hands up in a 'what can I do?' gesture before raising his glass with purpose, waiting for the audience to simmer down.

"So, I guess, all I can do is simply raise a toast... To the very happy couple, who have taught us all so much about chemistry and charm and compatibility, and grace under pressure, and being stronger together, and making each other even better people... Cheers! Sköl! I love you both more than I can possibly say", he smiles at them sweetly before turning back around.

"And to all of you, before you boo me off stage for being the most disappointing Best Man in history, I will just say, that once Harry, here, takes my baby sister off for a cup of cocoa and a bedtime story at midnight... Ahem!", he casts a withering glare at Harry over his shoulder. "There's a fire pit at the other end of the terrace that looks like the absolute, perfect place for a little roasting...", he singsongs, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

To the echoes of an ominous cheer and eager drumming on the tables, Harry wrestles Ben into a headlock as he saunters back over to his seat next to Anne.

>

After everyone practically licked the dessert plates clean - a tasty little selection each, including Limoncello sorbet, fresh fruits, cannoli, and affogato - the sense of eager anticipation quickly grows.

With much fanfare, James jumps up and announces the man of the hour.

After finally escaping from his effusive, clingy hug, Harry steps up to the mic.

"Hi, I'm Harry... Oh, wait! Habit, sorry!", he jests.

"Oh, God, always the comedian!", Grimmy heckles from mid-way up one of the tables.

"Alright, alright, I'll try to rein it in! Let me start by saying a big thank you, to each and every one of you, for joining us today and for the last few days. It's meant the world to us to have you here to share this with us", he blows kisses from behind the microphone.

"We also want to thank our parents - for all their love and support; and also to the wonderful Emma and Hannah - for working miracles in helping to pull this all off; and, of course, to Isabella and Lorenzo - we so lucked out in finding you two and this perfect place. It's been magical; we cannot thank you all enough".

James steps back up to hand him bouquets for their mums and assistants.

"Thank you, also, to the best bridal party crew of all time. You girls and guys all look amazing, and have been so supportive and so fun. We adore you all, and couldn't have done this without you".

He asks them all to stand up and then raises his glass for a toast. The microphone picks up the clinking of his new ring on the edge of his glass.

"Hmm, who else am I supposed to thank?", he tugs at his lower lip, frowning quizzically, before smoothly spinning on his heel to face Eloise and offer her a beaming grin.

"Ah, of course!", he goofily drops down on one knee, gesturing to her with his left hand. "My wife!". His Borat impression is spot on, and it's definitely not the first time he's shown it off to her.

"Oh, God!", she wails, over the laughter from the crowd. "What have I got myself into?", she buries her blushing facing in her hands, hiding her smile.

"Alright, alright!", he gets back to his feet, shamelessly amused at his own joke and her predictable reaction. "I better stop and behave myself, before she starts looking into an annulment... But, oh God, I have a wife?! This wife!".

Pausing, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out noisily as he stares moonily at Eloise.

"How did I ever get so lucky?", he shakes his head in disbelief.

"What can I possibly say?", he shrugs. "And after Crispin and Ben's masterclasses in speech-making earlier...", he lets it hang.

Scuffing the toe of his boot on the floor, he pauses for a beat, collecting himself. He reminds himself of his Dad's advice earlier - as long as he keeps it heartfelt and simple, he can't go wrong.

"Okay, so, as most of you will know, my beautiful new wife" - he slips back into Borat again before wincing and holding his hands up guiltily - "Has quite the way with words... A very fancy degree and shiny Golden Globes will attest to that".

He beams proudly, waiting for the applause to die down before he continues. "What most of you won't know is that just this morning, she wrote me the most incredible letter... Which is now my most prized possession".

Swallowing thickly, he can't help but walk back to Eloise, engulfing her in a hug from behind as she twists towards him.

Bending over her, he wraps his arms tightly around her, a little overwhelmed and choked up, but also successfully blocking her view as Mitch, Sarah, Adam and Tom sneak up the back wall to the instruments set up at the back of the stage, behind the top table.

Ben and James jump to their feet and silently gesture for the crowd to keep cheering and clapping to drown out the noise, but they needn't have bothered. Eloise is entirely fixated on Harry, engulfed in his arms and his scent, as he spills whispered words of love and adoration. She'll happily give him all the time he needs, soothingly rubbing one hand over his back and the other through his shorter hair.

Eventually, he stands back up straight, but stays behind Eloise, with his hands on her shoulders to turn her back to face the front.

Clearing his throat, he addresses their guests again. "I can't even begin to try to do that letter justice... Her words have the power to stand alone. Mine aren't as fancy; and need a little help, in the form of a melody and an arrangement, to come to life...".

Grinning over her head at the excited chatter from the crowd, Harry squeezes her shoulders, stepping slightly to the side to reveal the guys behind him. "So, my darling wife, with a little help, I'll try my best to give you even just a tiny inkling of what you mean to me".

As Harry bends to kiss her cheek, she twists back and just catches the guys out of the corner of her eye, unintentionally dodging his lips as she does a double-take.

Mitch, sits on a stool, plucking at his acoustic guitar; Sarah's behind a very stripped back drum kit; Adam stands against the wall with his bass; and Tom sits behind a little keyboard.

But Harry soon catches her attention again, addressing her and the crowd at the same time. "I wrote this song the day after she promised to be mine forever... So, thank you, for being so patient, and letting me get it just right before I finally share it with you... It's on the new album too, so here's a global exclusive for you all... But please don't record it or Jeff will come for you and Sony and Columbia don't know I'm doing this!", he grimaces comically, before bending to drop a final kiss to her lips, before skipping across the stage.

Looking up at quite so many familiar faces, unexpectedly, he gets a little nervous. "This is going to be pretty stripped back", he warns. "We've all been drinking, and we warmed up about eight hours ago now, and this won't do the track's amazing production and instrumentals justice... But, hey, here you go". He counts them in.

"Walk in your rainbow paradise / Strawberry lipstick state of mind / I get so lost inside your eyes / Would you believe it?".

Vibing and grooving and bopping his head, Harry's voice sounds rich and warm - like molten honey. Singing around a beaming smile, he barely takes his eyes off Eloise.

With her arm hooked over the back of his empty chair, she couldn't look away if she tried. He's killing it; the guys are too, and Sarah's backing vocals are flawless.

"I'd walk through fire for you / Just let me adore you / Like it's the only thing I'll ever do".

Holding the final note, embellishing it playfully, he barely has time to take a breath before he's engulfed in Eloise's arms, practically barrelled backwards off his stool.

Grinning over her shoulder at the effusive clapping and cheering from all their guests, he finally manages to peel her off him and leans back, relieved to see no tears.

"Oh, baby, not today!", she beams proudly, "I just... I adored it! And I adore you". She surges in to kiss him.

Hooking an arm around her waist, he speaks into the mic again. "Thank you, you're all very kind... And give it up for part of my wonderful band - always willing to take on new songs, ever so slightly drunk with me!".

As James wrestles the mic off him to start issuing instructions about moving to the far end of the roof terrace - for a group photo whilst the staff clear the tables - Harry and Eloise step back and embrace Mitch, Sarah, Adam and Tom in grateful hugs.


	8. Part H

24th September 2019 (continued)

Insistent that Helene, and also Isabella and Lorenzo, all join the final group photo, and not wanting to disrupt the staff clearing the tables, Harry attempts the mother of all selfies.

Standing with Eloise, by the back wall of the roof terrace, he calls instructions over his shoulder to all the guests gathered by the railing. He has them shift even closer together, desperately trying to squeeze them all in.

Tugging her down to crouch alongside him at the bottom of the frame, he calls out "Okay, ready?".

"'Styles', on three!", Jeff shouts from somewhere amidst the masses.

It's perfect.

Laughing with joy, Harry hollers, "Again!".

But, on "Two...", Eloise takes him by surprise. Anchoring her sparkling left hand on his sharp jaw - just visible at the bottom of the frame - she turns his head to meet hers in a sweet kiss.

With her veil set in motion and dancing in the breeze, the second photo proves even more perfect.

>

With the sun sinking rapidly towards the horizon, the stars aren't the only lights to start twinkling majestically.

Fairy lights adorn the roof terrace; in a curtain, running the length of the mirrored back wall of the bar, winding up the trunk and branches of the majestic old lemon tree, and woven through the canopy of the pergolas at the far end of the terrace. Tall pillar candles flicker in glass hurricane lanterns; lining the terrace's railings and sitting atop each table. The outdoor fireplace at the far end of the terrace has been lit too; crackling enticingly.

James commandeers the microphone again. "Whilst we have you all gathered, it's time for the newlyweds to cut the cake. It's admittedly a little early, but we figure it's safer to have the two of them wield a weapon before they start on the tequila!", he glances around, struggling to find them in the crowd. "H? El? Where are you? Can you come up here, please?".

The guests gather closer as they step up behind a flower-bedecked table, over in the corner, by the bar.

"Smash it, smash it, smash it!", a few Americans start chanting, whilst the gathered Brits look around, totally bemused.

"Smash what?!", Harry jokes.

"The cake! In her face!", Xander heckles.

"Don't even think about it, Styles!", Rosie sasses straight back, mindful of her flawless make-up job.

"No way! I wouldn't dare! That's not a thing, is it?", Harry laughs it off, bemused. Instead, he wraps one hand around her waist and lays the other over Eloise's on the knife to cut a neat slice from the bottom tier.

After carefully feeding each other small forkfuls of the rich carrot cake, they pick up the chilled champagne flutes and try to entwine their arms.

There's a titter amongst the cooing guests, chuckling at their awkwardness - all overly-long limbs and ever so slightly tipsy hands.

But they avoid disaster and manage to each take a sip before untangling themselves and getting immediately more preoccupied.

James is back on the mic. "Oh, another kiss... Shocker! Ladies and gents, let's give these two a minute. Please can I ask you to all move back to the other side of the terrace and gather around the dance floor? There's a special surprise in store for you in just a few minutes, and, I can promise, you will not want to miss it!".

>

As the crowd thins out around them, Gemma steps closer, whipping her hands from behind her back with a flourish.

"Oh, you are my saviour! When did you have time to pop downstairs? Thank you so much", Eloise practically sobs in gratitude.

Planting a hand on Harry's shoulder for balance, she unties the silk bows at her ankles and tugs down the little zippers to step out of her four-inch heels. "Oh, my God, that feels good!", she groans in relief, flexing her toes and bending the joints both ways. "These bad boys are my first and last ever pair of Jimmy Choo's, I swear!".

Taking them from Gemma, Harry gentlemanly drops down to squat on his haunches, burrowing under the tulle to pull each of Eloise's feet forward in turn, helping her step into the simple, silver, strappy, flat sandals.

Surreptitiously running his hand up the length of her long leg as he stands back up, she twists and squirms out of his reach with a giggle, before stepping closer again to thank her Prince Charming.

"Ah, hello, down there...", he whispers lowly, dropping his eyes down to find hers for the first time all day, acknowledging their more familiar height difference.

Lifting a hand to her neck, he angles her jaw up for what has to be approaching their hundredth kiss of the day so far.

>

They're interrupted, again, by James on the microphone - heard over the gasps and cheering of the crowd.

"Please give it up, for the one and only...".

Before they've quite separated from their kiss, Harry starts tugging Eloise across their now empty half of the terrace.

Still pecking kisses, they giggle and whisper, each intent on the other being the one to pull away first.

"Okay, okay... Rooftop... Staircase... Careful!", he eventually concedes first; protective instincts kicking in. "We've got all the time in the world for more of that later", he promises with a final smooch.

Hand in hand, they head for the twinkling fairy-lit canopy of the pergolas - where the dining tables had sat before being cleared and pushed over to the far wall.

Slipping through the crowd to stand at the edge of the dance floor, they both smile widely at Adele, perched on a stool on the little stage, directly opposite them. Tom's at the keyboard, behind her.

"Hell-o-oo", she sings lowly, unaccompanied, before promptly creasing into a bark of laughter.

"Hello everyone!", she grins into the mic, pulling its stand closer. "Now, not many of you will know this, but it was actually El, here, who first played me this track, back when we were still at school. Believe it or not, I'd never even heard of Bob Dylan at the time... She's always been cooler than me!", Adele sends her a cheeky wink.

"Anyway, I ended up recording it for my first album and it did quite well...". A cheeky smirk belies her modest words. "At the time, she graciously said it would be payment enough if I'd sing it at her wedding one day... So, here we are!", she chuckles with a sassy flip of her palm. "I always settle my debts, and I'm even waiving my fee!", she lets slip her cackling laugh.

"So come on, you two, let us feel it... Please, everyone, give a hand to this beautiful couple for their first dance", she gestures to them with a sweep of her arm. "This is Make You Feel My Love... If you know it, please sing along. I've been drinking and smoking all afternoon, so can probably do with the help!", she snorts a laugh again before settling down.

As the keys strike up, Harry pivots neatly and takes a step back, gallantly offering Eloise his hand with a shallow bow.

Tugging her close, he holds one hand in his up by their shoulders, as the other sneaks around her waist to stroke over her bare back; chests and hips flush as they melt into each others' hold.

Their guests shuffle and sway, at both the spectacle of them sweeping across the dance floor, and the special impromptu performance of a well-loved modern classic.

But the newlyweds only have eyes for each other, whispering and giggling and singing softly to each other.

Their guests won't appreciate how Harry had insisted he needed to practice; sweeping her around the partially gutted reception rooms of their new home for a couple of hours the week before the wedding. But Eloise certainly does appreciate that he doesn't once even come close to stepping on her toes.

In the centre of the dance floor, with her head now resting against his cheek, and his lips pressed to her temple, they both twist to watch Adele as she powers through the final chorus to the last verse.

Its lyrics are more akin to longing than an established relationship, but they pack a punch, and Harry and Eloise have both always loved the simple melody. And, this moment, this exclusive performance, makes it all the more touching and memorable - her incredible voice sounding all the richer with the sense of occasion and heartfelt emotion at the sight of her best friend, gliding around gracefully in the arms of her soulmate.

Eloise's teenage self couldn't have imagined such happiness when she'd asked Adele to sing at her wedding nine years before.

Lifting her head, she gazes up at Harry as he squeezes her hand and holds her even more tightly. They lock moony gazes under the twinkling canopy, softly singing the final verse to each other in a revered promise.

"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true / Nothing that I wouldn't do / Go to the ends of the earth for you / To make you feel my love".

As Adele laps up the applause, Eloise slides her hand from Harry's shoulder to his jaw, tipping it down to stretch up for another kiss.

And when she introduces When We Were Young, their lips remain locked well into her first verse.

"Everybody loves the things you do / From the way you talk to the way you move / Everybody here is watching you / 'Cause you feel like home / You're like a dream come true".

A subtle cough breaks them apart and they startle to find Crispin and Anne ready to cut in, whilst Des offers Elin his hand.

"But if by chance you're here alone / Can I have a moment before I go?".

After a quick swap, Eloise and Harry can't help but steal sneaky looks, taking in the special moment, as each dances with their beloved parent.

Her dad gazes down at Eloise with a knowing grin - he certainly won't begrudge them for it. As her eyes flick back up to his, she grins guiltily, making him chuckle. It's softer than his usual booming laugh, something just for them. "Gosh, I can't believe you're not a Cadogan anymore...", he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Oh, Dad!", she swallows thickly. "I'm so excited to get to be Mrs. Styles... It's a really, really good surname, you know? But I'll always be a Cadogan too - you can't get rid of me that easily!", she teases, beaming up at him, trading their matching smiles.

"I was actually thinking about maybe adding it as a middle name, when I change it legally", she suggests. "And I might need to stay as Cadogan for work anyway... I only have a few credits, but I'm not sure yet how complicated it will be to change it on all my contracts".

"Do whatever makes you happiest, my darling. That's all I ask", he offers sweetly. Just as Harry had, he pulls her tighter and drops a kiss to her temple as Adele shifts into the second chorus.

"You still look like a movie / You still sound like a song / My God, this reminds me / Of when we were young".

They swap partners again, halfway through the song - Harry dances with Elin, Eloise with Des, and Crispin with Anne.

As Adele introduces her final song, Sweetest Devotion, Harry cuts in on his dad to claim Eloise back.

"With your loving / There ain't nothing / That I can't adore".

"You will only be, eternally / The one that I belong to".

It isn't long before other guests start stepping out on to the dance floor to join them. After Ben and Mer, Gemma and Michal, and James and Jules, most of the other couples then too follow suit. Rosie and Jason form a sweet threesome with little Jack, sitting in the crook of his arm.

"When you wonder / If I'm gonna lose my way home, just remember / That come whatever, I'll be yours all along".

"And there is something, about the way you love me / That finally feels like home".

"The sweetest / It's the sweetest / Devotion".

Once Adele caps off her final "Thank you" with a toast, Eloise and Harry - her most effusive cheerleaders, right at the front by the stage, clapping and cheering and whistling wildly - step closer to help her down in her heels.

They sweep her straight into a tight hug, grateful for her making such a special moment so unforgettable.

>

From 7pm, the reception kicked off with a bang when James stepped up to the mic, introducing Alexa, taking the first spin on the decks.

With everyone more than ready and eager to let loose, she kicked things off with suitable fervour.

Having lost Eloise somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, tangled up between Rosie and Adele, soon enough, Harry spins out of what feels like an unending chain of congratulatory hugs, heading over to the railing for a quick breather.

Looking out at the view and the starry night as he strips off his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his now more unbuttoned white silk shirt, he jumps as he feels two hands slide around his hips, wrapping around him in a tight hug.

Stretching up on to her tiptoes, Eloise hooks her chin over his shoulder and promptly giggles in his ear. "Sorry", she apologises for surprising him. "I needed some water, but then saw my husband looking, oh, so handsome in the moonlight and couldn't resist". He can hear the beaming smile in her voice.

Turning in her arms, he leans back against the railing and pulls her closer, dancing his fingers up her bare back.

Smoothing hers over his chest, she tilts her head quizzically. "I half expected you to have a second outfit...".

"Nope", he pops the 'p', shaking his head. "I love this too much", he looks at the pale blue silk suit jacket, shimmering where it hangs on the back of a chair next to them.

"You look incredible! The fabric and colour are unreal", she runs her fingers over it. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before".

"Really? I see it every day...". She can only roll her blue eyes indulgently at his cuteness and dimpled grin.

"Are you alright in all this?", he takes the excuse to run his hand up her bared thigh before tugging at the layers of her skirt. "It's hotter than I expected in the middle of that dance floor".

"There's a shorter silk underskirt, actually", she guides his hand higher, to feel it. "But, I'm alright for now... What can I say, the feel of tulle swishing against my thighs again just makes me want to dance", she purrs temptingly in his ear.

"Oh, is that so?", he smirks. "Come on, let's grab some water, then get back out there". He slings an arm over her shoulder and steers her towards the bar.

>

They don't quite make it that far.

Rounding the trunk of the old lemon tree, hearing their names through the speaker again, they both pause mid-stride and spin back around.

It's Niall and Mitch this time.

"Where are the lovebirds at?", Niall singsongs into the microphone. "God, guys... I told you we'd need to keep an eye on them!", he guffaws with laughter.

"What are they up to?", Eloise whispers to Harry as he takes her hand and tugs her back towards the dance floor.

"Beats me", he shakes his head with a shrug, pulling her in front of him and guiding her through the crowd.

Mitch spots them first, and nudges Niall.

"Ah, hah! There they are... And, surprisingly, not looking too dishevelled!", he sasses.

Once they make it to the front of the crowd, right by the stage, he and Mitch trade conspiratorial grins.

"Now, given the profession of so many of today's guests, it won't surprise you to know there were a lot of enquiries about singing for H and El's first dance... Well, they wouldn't have asked you directly! They asked us", Niall explains, having seen the surprised look on Harry's face.

"Well, on this very special day, and for these two, it feels like it's only right for some close friends to share some of their favourite songs. And everyone else gets an unplugged, intimate, impromptu gig with a stellar line-up... How does that sound?".

Once the cheering and excited chatter dies down, and clocking Harry and Eloise's surprised but elated faces, Niall continues. "I'll take that as a yes, then! Well, that's a relief, because a few of us have done our best to learn a load of songs in record time...".

Pulling their guitar straps over their heads - acoustic for Niall and electric for Mitch - they wave up a few others. Sarah, to the stripped-back drum kit; Adam, on bass; and Tom, sitting behind the keyboard again.

"Let's get to it... Now, it takes a real queen to follow the likes of Adele, and I think we have the perfect candidate... So, please, give it up, for the iconic and truly legendary, Ms. Stevie Nicks!".

After Mitch helps her on to the stage to rapturous applause, there are giggles as Stevie makes a play of lowering the mic stand, before she locks eyes on a grinning Harry and Eloise, standing arm in arm, directly in front of her.

She chuckles throatily. "Ah, there they are! I cannot tell you how much I adore these two. H and El are the kindest, sweetest, most charming, old souls. And so talented and beautiful too... What a gene pool! I'm not sure the world is ready for their babies".

"Me neither!", Crispin heckles, adding laughter to the crowd's cooing, as Harry and Eloise blush, bashfully squirming from the attention.

As the intro kicks in, Stevie chips back in. "Oh, and, just to say, I have donated to the charity foundation too, I'm not a total cheapskate!".

She then kicks things back off with suitable aplomb, singing Leather and Lace - which she and Harry duetted together at his show at The Troubadour a couple of years ago.

As they dance, Harry and Eloise quietly trade the lyrics back and forth; intermittently managing to peel their eyes off each other to watch her perform for them - up close and very personal.

"You in the moonlight / With your sleepy eyes / Could you ever love a man like me?", Harry croons to her.

Eloise volleys back in return, "And you were right / When I walked into your house / I knew I'd never want to leave".

They go on to sing the chorus together - well, with Stevie, and just about everyone crowded behind them too.

"Lovers forever / Face to face / My city, your mountains / Stay with me stay / I need you to love me / I need you today / Give to me your leather / Take from me / My lace".

They're rendered even more speechless when Stevie pulls Adele back on to the stage to sing Songbird with her.

They sound incredible together, harmonising beautifully - raw yet mellow. Entirely lost in the song, gaping up at them, Harry and Eloise are left choked up and covered in goosebumps.

After rapturous applause for them both, Ed shuffles on to the stage and commandeers Niall's acoustic guitar.

When he jumps straight into Kiss Me, the heartfelt lyrics couldn't be more apt.

Locked in a tight embrace; Eloise's heart is against Harry's chest, with her lips pressed to his neck. He'd absolutely fallen for her eyes. And they trade kisses like they want to be loved - sweet and playful, but weighty, laden with emotion.

Ed then segues straight into Thinking Out Loud. Again, the sentiment is pretty spot on.

Harry chuckles along, singing the original lyrics in Eloise's ear, neatly flipping off Ed from behind her back as he sasses him from the stage, changing the "I's" and "my's" to "his" and "he's".

"When his hair's all but gone and his memory fades / And the crowds don't remember his name / When his hands don't play the strings the same way / He knows you will still love him the same".

Despite the laughter rippling through the crowd at Harry's expense, Eloise couldn't agree more. She's entirely certain that her love for him will only grow even stronger over time.

Somehow, she loves him more each and every day.

>

It proves to be quite the impromptu concert, given all the talented singers and musicians in attendance.

Harry and Eloise stay front and centre, lapping it all up, and dancing together, again and again, keen to show their appreciation and gratitude. Neither's complaining.

After Rita and Mabel each took a turn, Kacey sings Shania Twain's You're Still The One. She'd sang with Harry on tour, and knows it's a firm favourite.

"We might have took the long way / We knew we'd get there someday".

Harry and Eloise join her, throwing their heads back to belt out the final verse together from their prime spot in front of the stage. "I'm so glad we made it / Look how far we've come, my baby".

Kacey then does them all a favour and heckles Niall to step back up and take centre stage himself.

"Alright, alright! I'll do a new song for you... It's called Black and White, from my new album, due out in the Spring". He pauses, looking down at Harry and Eloise with his arm outstretched towards them. "What can I say... I love you both to bits, and I can only hope to experience a love like yours one day".

The song is a sweet, little ode - anticipating that one, true love. He sounds incredible, and it isn't long before they're picking up some of the lyrics, and attempting to sing along to the catchy chorus.

"Yeah, I see us in black and white / Crystal clear on a starlit night / In all your gorgeous colours / I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life / See you standing in your dress / Swear in front of all our friends / There'll never be another / I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life".

The applause suddenly drops to a hushed silence, when Zayn surreptitiously steps up on to the stage and approaches Niall, whispering in his ear.

There are audible gasps, and you could probably hear a pin drop in the eager anticipation of the crowd.

Harry remains next to Eloise, gaping directly up at them. Just a few feet away, he can't make out what they're saying.

With a knowing smirk, and attempting to break the mood and lend some levity, Niall starts strums his acoustic guitar again, and promptly breaks into the opening verse of If I Could Fly.

Eloise's predictable wail of protest, hurling accusations of "Traitor!", quickly has him relenting.

"Oh, as if I'd dare...? I'll be damned if I'm going to be the one to make you cry today!", he reassures her.

As he turns and addresses Mitch and the band, Zayn steps up to a mic. "Well come on then, lads...", he chuckles awkwardly, ushering over Liam and Louis.

Stepping back to his mic as the other two make their way forward, Niall throws his head back, letting slip a gleeful, cackling laugh, before looking down and grinning at Harry and Eloise as he addresses the crowd. "Who would ever have thought Harry would be the first to skip down the aisle?", he shakes his head, totally bemused. "This one's dedicated to our favourite Swede... Who just happens to have this one totally, unashamedly whipped!".

After a quick confab, as Mitch nails the irresistible opening riff, they all step back to their mics.

It's Zayn that takes on Harry's opening verse. "Who's that shadow holding me hostage? / I've been here for days / Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away?".

Niall takes over. "I know they'll be coming to find me soon / But my Stockholm Syndrome is in your room / Yeah, I fell for you".

Then all the boys join in for the chorus.

"Oh, baby, look what you've done to me / Oh, baby, look what you've done now /  
Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh, ooh /  
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me / Oh, baby, you've got me tied down /  
Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh, ooh".

But they sing Harry's version from his tour.

And that they all know it massively chokes him up.

Excitedly jigging around to the irresistible melody, squeezing his hand and tugging at his arm, Eloise tries to rouse him - rendered still and speechless, just gaping up at them in disbelief.

He's never seen them perform without him. It's amazing and discombobulating and slightly unsettling, all at once.

Ultimately, it's Louis, stepping forward for his solo with a naughty glint in his eye, that has Harry snapping back to his senses, on guard.

"Who's this man that's holding your hand / And talking 'bout your eyes? / Used to sing about being free, but now he's changed his mind".

He sings it cheekily to Eloise, smirking and sticking his thumb mockingly to Harry, whilst Niall cackles with laughter at his antics and their predictable reactions.

You can guess who was laughing with abandon, and who was jokingly scowling.

In retaliation, and to the crowd's rapturous delight, Harry swiftly jumps up on stage and pretends to get Louis in a headlock. Then, slinging an arm around Niall's shoulders and sharing his mic, he joins them - belting out the rest of the song alongside his brothers, beaming down, all the while, at Eloise.

It's her turn to stand stock still, gaping up in disbelief at the impromptu reunion performance.

She genuinely wasn't sure she'd ever see him sing alongside them on stage ever again - even a small and private one.

Even after four years apart, with no rehearsal, and a new version of the song to contend with, they absolutely nail it. All their voices continued developing in the intervening years, and have only strengthened. They sound amazing together - rich and full, and still harmonising perfectly.

But what's undoubtedly most special of all, is their matching, beaming smiles and sparkling eyes - all absolutely loving being up there, back together.

The old One Direction touring crew fight their way to the front too - Anne, Gemma, Lou, Lottie, Paul and Will; plus Eleanor and Maya. Throwing their arms up and dancing around wildly, they lap it up, unable to believe their eyes.

As the song finally draws to a close, and the boys envelop Harry, Niall reaches down and pulls Eloise up on to the stage and straight into the centre of their big group hug.

>

It's Grimmy that eventually breaks it up - set up at the decks and ready to commandeer the speakers.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever get to say it again, but 'give it up for One Direction'!", he hollers. "That was bloody amazing - proper history in the making! But let's also say a huge thank you to Niall and Mitch, and Sarah, Adam and Tom. And, of course, to all the amazing performers".

Harry and Eloise blow kisses and call their thanks from the stage, but Grimmy cheekily drowns them out with his first song.

But she forgives him, instantly, for a Beyoncé mega-mix.

Pulled down from the stage again by Glenne and Rosie, Eloise proceeds to dance up a storm with the rest of the girls too - Adele, Gemma, Malin, Lou, Lottie, Suki and Phoebe; plus Plus Kendall, Gigi, Florence, Alexa, Daisy, Pixie, Rita. What a squad.

>

It's after 9pm when Eloise staggers off the dance floor, in desperate need of a break.

As she makes her way to the staircase to head down to the toilets on the floor below, she skids on the polished stone, grappling for the bannister.

Just heading up, it's Zayn who's luckily on hand, and dashes to steady her. "Whoa! Steady on, girl".

"Oh, shit! Thank you! I can't see my feet in this poofy dress", she babbles, embarrassed. Its tulle layers are just slightly too long without her heels, and just voluminous enough to prove a little hazardous.

"I've got you! Here, I'll help you down", he peels his hands from her arm and waist and gallantly offers her his arm instead.

Squeezing it gratefully, she can't help but take the opportunity to ask, "I still can't believe you guys sang! How did it feel?". She's genuinely curious - especially for Zayn.

He pauses for a beat, thinking. "It felt pretty great actually! I haven't been on stage in forever".

"Well I know how much it meant to H, so thank you, really".

They loiter at the bottom of the steps, chatting where it's quiet. "I'm so happy for you two, you know? I'm so glad you sorted everything out, after that time I saw you at the Golden Globes".

"Yeah, me too", she blows out a breath as her eyes flit away from his to wave at Harry's aunt, heading back up the stairs. "God, that whole mess was just terrible. It's insane to think it was only nine months ago... But kind of amazing how quickly things can change and all slot into place".

"Well, that's reassuring!", he chuckles, rubbing his tattooed neck.

"I didn't realise you and Gigi were back together? You look so happy together", she nudges his shoulder.

"Only recently... But it feels so right, so easy, this time, you know? ".

"Yeah, I know a bit about that", she beams at him. "It's shit at the time, but I guess the silver lining of time apart, is really learning the value of something, of someone", she smiles softly, before leaning in to give him a tight hug.

"I'll wait and help you back up the stairs", he offers.

"No, don't worry; I'll be alright going up, when I can actually see my feet", she grins over her shoulder. "Thank you, but go... Find your girl!".

>

Just a few minutes later, Crispin skips down the stairs, surprised to find Harry leaning against the wall, in his own world, staring down at the new ring on his left hand with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"You alright?", he claps a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

"Just waiting for El", he admits with a grin, rubbing his neck. "Apparently she almost stacked it on the stairs just now", he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Oh, well you've just signed up for a lifetime of that!", he barks his distinctive, booming laugh, before clarifying. "Waiting around... Not holding her hand. Well-".

"I can't wait! For all of it", Harry grins, clear on his meaning.

Crispin pulls him into a tight hug, "Welcome to the family, son".

That's how Eloise finds them when she emerges back out from the toilets.

Wrapping her arms around both of them, her eyes brim with tears - as yet, just about, still unshed.


	9. Part I

24th September 2019 (continued)

As soon as Harry and Eloise emerge, arm in arm, back upstairs on to the roof, they're set upon by Gemma.

"Where did you leave your bouquet, hun? Some of the oldies are going to head to bed soon, and it's your last official duty for the night!".

As Eloise panics, drawing a blank as to where she left it, they head towards the other side of the terrace.

In a bid to soak up some of the booze, and sustain energy levels for the dancing still to come, some of the tables are adorned with little plates of home-made pastas and pizzas. The wedding cake has also been cut up, tempting those with a sweeter tooth.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Isabella approaches with both a smile and her bouquet in hand. "It was behind the bar".

Announcing the end of his set over the speakers, Grimmy explains that Alexa will take over in five minutes after everyone has first gathered by the fireplace.

>

With her back to a gaggle of chattering girls, lined up at the ready, Eloise eyeballs their slightly nervous partners, gathered in front of her.

Lucas stands to her side, coaching line out instructions, opposite the gathered guests, watching on.

She has fairly good aim, as it happens, and makes a play of limbering up her arms and shoulders, and popping her long neck to either side in a stretch.

After a sneaky glance behind her, she turns back to face the guys and singles out her indirect target. With a quirk of her eyebrow and a cheeky smirk, she surreptitiously shifts, correcting her angle.

Tossing the bouquet over her head, she spins on her heel to watch it's arcing descent, laughing as the girls eagerly clamour for it.

Then - bam - bang on target.

Glenne's competitive leap didn't surprise her in the least. She should have known Rosie and Gemma would be vying for it too. Gigi, Florence and Phoebe were surprisingly gung-ho as well, but Maya and Molly's enthusiasm took her by surprise.

>

Once she's escaped the girls' clutches again, Eloise heads towards the bar, intent on her mission to finally get some water.

She squeals in surprise when an arm hooks around her waist and tugs her in.

It's Alessandro, beaming as he twirls her into his side. "Che bellezza!", he coos, admiring his handiwork.

Shaking off her impromptu pirouette, with a hand to his arm to steady herself, she looks up and takes in the slightly random assortment of guys with him.

Harry, Ollie, Mitch, Jeff, Liam, Grimmy and Zach. They're each holding shot glasses - doubles, by the looks of it.

Jeff pounces and playfully wrestles her into a headlock - payback for successfully firing the bouquet straight to Glenne. They've been together forever and she's not the first to give him a less than subtle nudge.

After telling him to keep a firm hold of her, Liam proceeds to swipe a lime and then sprinkle salt up the arch of her long neck.

"Watch the dress!", Alessandro frets, before Harry manages to rescue her from their clutches.

Chuckling, she can't help but roll her eyes, "Oh, go on then... Quickly, before it drips!".

"Oh, no, no... Ladies first!", Zach sing-songs, twisting from the bar to pass her a double shot of her own.

At least it's tequila.

They cheer as she gamely throws it back.

She's still grimacing and shaking it off when Harry steps close, wrapping an arm around her waist. Dancing his fingers up her bare back to cup the nape of her neck firmly, he promptly downs his shot. Tilting her head, he ducks to lick a broad stripe up the side of her neck, before pulling her in for a hot kiss.

With the kick of the tequila just offset by the tang of the lime and salt on his tongue, it's enjoyable enough for Eloise to ignore the lewd cheering of the guys around them after they see off their own shots.

But it's Grimmy - shocker - who takes it a step further.

"You better hope he's not had too many of those, for later...", he heckles crassly, elbowing Eloise a little too enthusiastically, subtle as a brick.

Stumbling into Harry's chest, she breaks from his kiss with a roll of her eyes. Pointedly ignoring Grimmy, she makes a play of insouciantly draping her arms over his shoulders. Then, rising on to her tiptoes and craning her neck, she whispers sultrily in his ear, only egging the guys on more.

"...And, that's my cue to leave!", Ollie deadpans, ushering the others back to the dance floor to give them some privacy.

>

All day, they'd been continually interrupted, each time they tried to snatch a moment alone together.

So, sensing their opportunity, Harry swiftly guides Eloise to the far corner of the roof terrace.

Caging her in his arms, with her back to his chest, they survey the view - from the moonlit bay, all the way around to all their guests, under the light of the twinkling fairy lights. Whilst some hardy souls are still on the dance floor, many are gathered around the tables scattered between the bar and fireplace, happily grabbing a bite to eat and chatting.

"Grimmy's talking shit, by the way... As per usual!", Harry drawls lowly. "You can absolutely expect fireworks later". He punctuates his promise with a naughty flex of his hips into hers from behind; juxtaposed with a sweet kiss behind her ear.

"Unless I can convince you on that quickie after all, hmm? A little firecrackin' preview... What do you say?", he adds, ever so temptingly.

She can hear the smirk on his lips, sponging kisses down her neck as he tries his luck, deploying all his irresistible charm.

The tequila's definitely hit.

At her coquettish, tipsy giggle in return, he grins wolfishly. She feels that too. As she does his right hand, when it drops from the railing to her hip, then, obscured from view, teasingly ventures into the thigh-high slit at the front of her skirt.

She'd practically forgotten about the pale blue silk garter, sitting high on her right thigh, but he definitely notices it. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!", he whistles, running his finger under it.

"Shh!", she wriggles in his hold, grabbing from over her skirt to still his wandering hand.

Twisting around, she looks at him, only to blush more at the predatory smirk on his face. "Is it a bit trashy? I'm not sure I can bear the thought of everyone watching that", she grimaces.

His eyes flit rakishly over her frame, biting his lip as he can't help but try to picture it.

Hot and bothered, he flips her properly around to face him and surges straight back in for a needy kiss.

Pulling back just slightly, he whispers against her lips. "Just knowing it's there is so hot, baby... God, the things I intend to do to you later", he grits out.

Call it fair warning.

Shifting subtly, she positions her legs either side of his muscular thigh, melting into his strong frame.

Hearing the mewl in the back of her throat when he presses his thigh against her apex, he's the one that breaks the kiss, dropping his forehead to hers. "Fuck... I need a minute", he pants raggedly.

With a playful glance down at his crotch - the pale blue isn't exactly forgiving - it's her turn to grin lasciviously.

"Follow me! Come on, for old times' sake...", she whispers, licking at the shell of his ear.

"Fucking tease!", he grits out, absolutely loving it.

Wrapping an arm around her waist from behind to keep her close, he nudges his hips into hers to encourage her forwards.

>

Relieved to make it to the photo booth uninterrupted, and without needing to queue, Harry casts a surreptitious glance over his shoulder to scope out whether they've been spotted, so doesn't notice when Eloise pulls up short in front of him.

Crashing into her back, it's a good thing he already had an arm around her waist.

Hearing her shocked intake of breath, he recovers quickly and looks up.

He's equally as surprised to find Niall, with a lapful of Malin - both entirely too distracted to realise they have an audience.

Reaching around Eloise, Harry clamps one hand over her mouth as he quietly tugs the curtain closed again with the other, then backs them slowly away.

Spinning her around, he has to stop himself from laughing at her expression - totally surprised, but giddy with excitement.

"How fucking poetic is that?", she whispers gleefully.

"Shh!", he interlaces their fingers and tries to pull her further away, to leave them in peace, but she holds firm and tugs him back.

"No! We have to stand guard for them... Especially with James bloody Corden about!". Lessons learnt the hard way, and all that.

They back up a little further, but stay close enough to be able to keep an eye on both the photo dispenser and anyone approaching.

Just as Harry succumbs to the temptation to pass the time with another kiss, they're interrupted again; by Niall, fittingly enough.

Popping his head surreptitiously out the black curtain, his hushed "Oh, fuck!", breaks them apart.

Both lolling their heads towards him with matching, knowing smirks, he repeats it again, hanging his head.

The blush rapidly colouring his cheeks belies his sassy eye roll. "Oh, fuck off, both of ya'!".

"Hey! We didn't even say a word-", Harry protests, despite not being able to wipe the smug, shit-eating grin off his face.

Niall cuts him off with an awkward laugh. "Well don't! Just shut your trap and let's dance", he hisses before ducking back into the curtain to drag a wide-eyed, tipsy, Malin out behind him. She's grinning bashfully too.

With an uncontainable squeal, Eloise throws an arm around her cousin's shoulders to steer her towards the dance floor. They whisper and giggle like school girls all the way.

Their boys follow more than eagerly behind, nudging and playfully scrapping with brotherly affection.

>

After tearing it up on the dance floor, the party eventually draws to another temporary halt when a drunken James wrangles the microphone from Alexa at the DJ booth, keen to tick off his final task as compère.

Fittingly enough, after another rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody - a raucous and enthusiastic mass sing-along - it's time to head downstairs to the main terrace.

A relatively drunk and disorderly gaggle, it takes a while for them to all file down the flights of that sprawling central staircase.

>

There's a short but impressive fireworks display, set off from the far corner of the roof terrace, raining down over the hillside.

Flinching at every bang, Harry doesn't particularly enjoy them, but loves watching Eloise's face, lit up with child-like wonder at them exploding in a shower of effervescent white, temporarily overpowering the stars and the moon in lighting up the inky night sky.

Then, just before midnight, it's time for them to depart. 

After doing the rounds, with hugs and kisses aplenty, they head in, towards the lobby, to thank Isabella and Lorenzo and collect the key to the Honeymoon villa.

Meanwhile, a tipsy but still wonderfully proficient Gemma - Ben's altogether less helpful by now - hands out sparklers and has everyone gather on the front steps of the hotel.

Holding hands, Harry and Eloise skip through the path between the lined up guests as everyone cheers and waves them off in a sparkling swirl of love and best wishes.

Eloise had taken her slightly slippy sandals off before contending with all those stairs, so pulls up short upon reaching the bottom step, yelping as her feet meet the gravel driveway.

Ever her Prince Charming, Harry promptly swoops her up into his arms - bridal style, of course - to the delight of their friends and family.

Having managed to dance off most of the champagne, wine and tequila over the course of the last couple of hours, they're now both just nicely tipsy - but definitely feeling buoyed and positively overwhelmed with the outpouring of love after such a wonderful day.

Taking a few steps back on to the drive, he bends to find her lips in a final kiss - one that has her bare feet kicking out in the air in delight.

In doing so, framed by their cheering and sparkler-wielding guests and the beautifully flood-lit golden stone entryway of the Grand Palazzo, he grants Helene one final, amazing photo to round off the night.

As he playfully jostles Eloise in his arms to adjust his grip, their guests call their final goodbyes and blow kisses before he spins on his heel and heads up the hurricane lantern candle-lit pathway, down the drive and around the corner to the entrance of their villa.

Their cheering guests' heckling only intensifies when he comically breaks into an eager jog, making her squeal as they disappear around the corner, with their playful laugher echoing behind them.

As some of the remaining elder guests talk about heading to bed, the younger, more gung-ho, contingent head straight back up to the roof to continue the party. Unsurprisingly, the dangerous double-act of Grimmy and Glenne lead the charge.

>

They're still laughing together as Harry rounds the final corner, up the olive tree-lined pathway to the Honeymoon villa. It's discreetly tucked away in a quiet corner of the property, for privacy.

"This is all very impressive, my big, burly man...", she grins up at him, fingers toying with the cropped curls at the nape of his neck. "But you can put me down any time now".

"No way! Carrying you over the threshold is the whole bloody point!".

After instructing her to delve the key from his pocket, he tightens his arms around her before awkwardly dipping down so she can contend with the door.

Once she eventually manages to unlock it, he eagerly kicks it open, striding in with a whoop.

>

It's dark insider, and, struggling to find the lights, he reluctantly sets her down.

Upon finally locating the dimmer switch, he turns to push the door closed and sets the security bolt with a flourish, intent on some privacy - at last.

As he spins back around, she's right there. Taking him by surprise, she flings her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his neck and pressing closer.

Needy, grounding, affectionate.

He absolutely gets it.

Totally still and entirely content, they have a moment; taking stock after such an amazingly overwhelming day.

The delicate press of her lips at the base of his neck, and that little mewl in the back of her throat, almost have his knees buckling - and any semblance of restraint slipping away.

Arching back to gaze up at him, the moony, adoring look in the watery pools of her big blue eyes pins him.

Swallowing thickly, in the time it takes to trail his hand from caressing the teasingly bare skin of her back, up to cup her cheek, his thumb just catchese the tear spilling over her cheekbone.

To his knowledge, it's the first of the day.

"Oh, baby", he coos, his own lower lash line water-logged too.

Raking his eyes over her features again, he cocks his head and closes one eye in focus. "Listen to that...", he whispers, smiling softly.

"Hmm?", she mirrors the tilt of his head, listening intently. "I don't hear anything", she frowns.

"Exactly!", he wiggles his eyebrows. "It's just you and me, baby", a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

>

Taking Eloise's hand, as they pass, Harry smoothly snags the ice bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne from the console table in the entryway.

Skirting the small living area, he makes a beeline for the large bedroom.

Moonlight spills through the gauzy curtains and open shutters, across the pale wooden floor.

Depositing the ice bucket on the dressing table by the window, he shucks off his suit jacket and hangs it on the chair before perching against the edge of the table.

Crooking his index finger to usher her over, as soon as he can reach, he hooks an arm around her waist to tug her near.

Tripping into his chest, she presses closer, melting into his relaxed form.

Just as she winds her arms around his neck and tilts her head just so, as if on cue - just audible through the shut balcony doors - the music starts again, spilling from the continued party on the rooftop.

Trading knowing, jokingly exasperated looks, she drops her forehead to his chest, shoulders jigging. "Feels a bit weird to be missing our own party...", she chuckles wryly.

He nudges her head back up and shakes his head emphatically. "I think we've more than earned some peace and privacy, babe".

"Well, I won't argue with that!", she grins.

Dropping a hand and her gaze, she traces a finger over the 'Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Styles' on the tag looped around the neck of the chilled champagne bottle.

"Speaking of privacy", she clears her throat, "I just can't believe we managed to pull that off! Well, as far as we know... I guess?".

"I don't really care if it leaks now, to be honest; not any more", he shrugs with a shake his head. "I'm just so relieved there weren't any interruptions or swarming paps or screaming fans... That it was just ours - well and that lot", he gestures up towards the roof.

"We haven't actually talked about when and how we'll announce it...", she nudges him with her hip.

"I genuinely didn't think we'd need to!", he chuckles, bending to nuzzle his lips in a trail from the juncture of her neck and shoulder, up towards her ear. "But how about we put off thinking about that until tomorrow? I don't want to have to think about anything right now...".

"Well, what do you want to do? Hmm?", she teases, eyes sparkling with mirth as she gently rakes her nails through the short hairs above his collar.

"How about one last dance?". He's already toeing off his boots and socks in anticipation, mindful of her bare feet.

It wasn't the answer she was expecting, but how could she possibly refuse?

>

Their final dance of the night is for them alone.

He sings Adore You again, softly in her ear, as they sway gently, stepping around the dimly lit bedroom of the villa.

With just a few lights dimmed low, it's moody and sexy; the atmosphere heavy with emotion and anticipation. Those incredible, verdant eyes are intense; pinning her with an eager stare.

"Did you have a nice day, Mrs. Styles?", he asks lowly.

A beaming smile breaks over her face, eyes pooling with tears again.

"Nice?!", she can't contain an incredulous peal of laughter. "This was, without a doubt, the most perfect day of my entire life! It was just absolutely perfect... You are absolutely perfect. Thank you".

"What are you thanking me for?", he shakes his head, bemused.

"For everything, Harry...", she stops moving, looking up at him intently. "I've never felt happier than I do right now; in your arms, just us, after a perfect day, an incredible week".

He gazes moonily. "Well, thank you for saying 'I do'", he shrugs simply, a little bashful.

"God, I just cannot believe that I get to be Mrs. Styles", she beams up at him.

"Ohh...", he gulps, shifting closer. "Say it again for me, baby". He gets choked up this time.

Despite the low light, she catches his eyes darken as his pupils noticeably dilate. "Oh, you like that?", she smirks.

Surging in, they both pour the depths of their emotion into a hot kiss.

Hips, chests, hearts moulding.

>

Pulling back, panting wildly, his gaze and hands drop heavily to her waist.

After some fumbling and colourful cursing, he gives up on trying to find anything as straightforward as a zip.

"Fuck, how on earth am I supposed to get you out of this?", he whines lowly in exasperation. "You're going to have to talk me through it...".

Despite her instructions, and the best efforts of her smaller and more nimble fingers, fiddling inside the waistband of her skirt, his patience soon runs out.

Wrapping his arms around her - one hand to the small of her back, the other copping a feel of her bum - he tugs her close and walks her backwards across the bedroom. "Well, I'm never going to get the opportunity to fuck you in a wedding dress ever again am I?".

Smirking wolfishly, he pivots and drops to sit at the end of the huge bed, pulling her on to his lap.

Swooping in for yet another kiss, it's not long before they both start rummaging around under the voluminous layers of tulle.

She gets the giggles at the juxtaposition of the intense, brooding, het up expression on his face, as he bats and swats at the frothy white fabric puffed up around them.

He can't help but laugh too, getting silly and overly dramatic. "Oh, God, I'm going in! If I'm not back out in two minutes, send a search party... I might need mouth to mouth".

Lying back, he pulls her down and rolls them over. Popping up on to all fours, he shifts backwards to be able to drop to his knees by the edge of the bed. Then he gets straight to work.

"Well, well, well... What have we here?", he reappears, making a play of reverently parting her skirt either side of the split up her left thigh.

Reaching the apex of her thighs, he trails his fingers across to reveal the pale blue silk garter sitting high on her right thigh. "Fuck me! That's staying on for a while...".

Hiking up her skirt to fall cloud-like either side of her hips, he hitches the draped silk underskirt higher, only to groan, finding even more layers. "What even-?".

"It's a bodysuit; find the poppers".

"This is like the sexiest game of pass the parcel ever".

"Are you complaining?", she sasses back, shifting her hips in anticipation.

"Fucking Christ! White silk lingerie too? What are you doing to me?", he groans, dropping his head to nose teasingly along the soft fabric.

The frantic bunching of handfuls of tulle belies his gentler movements between her thighs.

Popping suddenly back up, he leans forward, bracing his weight on his elbows, either side of her hips. Hanging his head over her stomach, he stills, breathing heavily - intentionally low and slow. 

"You okay, baby?", she frowns, dropping a hand to the crown of his head.

"I need a second- I'm about to lose it, and I refuse to fucking cream my pants on our wedding night", he grits lowly, frustrated in more ways than one.

She tugs at his curls, then drops her hand to his shoulder, scrabbling for purchase in an attempt to nudge him up. "H? H, get up here".

"Please, just a minute-".

"I don't want a minute. I want-, need you now... Come on, we've got all night".

With a growl from the back of his throat, he launches himself over her, lathing kisses from her chest, up her neck.

As she fumbles with his button and zipper to shuck his trousers and then boxers down over his hips, he shifts suddenly back, face scrunched up. "Shit, let me...", he grits out, panting.

Biting her lip, she realises quite how on the edge he is. "How do you want me?".

He actually whimpers.

"This is custom Gucci couture... If you really want me to keep it on, I'm probably going to need to be on top", she tries to puzzle the logistics of quite so many layers.

It's all too much for him. With a wail, he throws himself down alongside her, stretching out with his face buried in the crook of his arm as he sucks in deep breaths.

Just two buttons keep the gaping silk shirt from revealing his heaving chest entirely. And with his fly open and trousers shucked low, he looks utterly debaucherous.

Entirely irresistible.

Sitting up, Eloise swings a leg to perch on his thighs, hiking up her skirts and bodysuit and swatting at the tulle tumbling around her.

Ready for him, waiting him out.

It's him that mewls, this time - a pathetic, strangled whimper, caught in the back of his throat.

"Not massively helping, babe...", he groans into his arm.

Swallowing thickly, after a couple more deep and steadying breaths, he suddenly sits up, dragging her closer to perch above his lap.

With their gazes cast low, he takes a firm grip at the base, as she, tugging her silk knickers aside, gently feeds the tip.

Both groan in harmony as she sinks down, feeling the familiar stretch as she takes him to the hilt.

"Fucking finally", he hisses raggedly.

Peeling her eyes open, she finds his still clamped shut, but clocks his furrowed brow, scrunched nose and clenched jaw. All paint a picture of a man very much on the edge.

Trailing a finger up the strained tendons of his neck, she withholds her own whimper at the shifting angle as she leans closer. "Tell me when I can move", she whispers.

"Just a sec...", he pants, burrowing a hand to find her clit. The calloused pad of his thumb runs a familiar path around over and across her bundle of nerves, again and again, with an increasing pressure that soon has her throbbing.

It takes every iota of willpower he can muster to focus on her pleasure and not what it's doing to his own; but this will undoubtedly be quick, so the least he can do is try to let her find some relief alongside him.

He has her panting and writhing in his lap in no time. "Oh, shit, please... Now?", she begs.

An unbidden flex of his hips is all the encouragement she needs.

Rolling hers, she soon finds her rhythm; tilting, rotating and grinding her pelvis.

"Breathe, baby", she purrs, noticing the increasing pink of his cheeks. "Don't hold back, let go for me".

At her invitation, his restraint runs out. Finally.

Complimenting her rhythm, he rolls and hammers his hips up into hers.

With their practised push and pull, each deep thrust, delicious slide, and twist - again and again - takes them ever closer to the edge.

Heat builds, hands scrabble for purchase, panting breaths mingle, and lips pillow against any skin within reach.

Sooner than either is ready for - but longer than they expected - they fall over the edge; together, thanks to the continued attention of his magical fingers.

Chest heaving, she reclines bonelessly in a cloud of tulle, riding the aftershocks as he continues pulsing within her.

Entirely spent, he collapses backwards too.

Sprawled across the width of the huge bed, they're still joined at the hips, but otherwise just a mess of tangled limbs and dishevelled clothing.

Patting blindly amongst the tulle, he eventually finds her hands and entwines their fingers, in need of the grounding.

The only sound in the villa is their heavy breathing and the occasional disbelieving chuckle.

>

Once he's recovered enough from his quick but overwhelming orgasm, he hauls himself up to sit, gazing down at where she lays, between his splayed legs.

When she lolls her head towards him, he knows her blissed-out, moony expression is just the mirror of his.

"Right, I need to make that up to you...". Slipping his hands under her back, he scoops her up, pliant and relaxed, and cages her against his chest again. "I'm going to unwrap you, then I want to watch you unravel again... And again... And again", he promises lowly, already peppering teasing, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

>

After dragging her up to standing, Harry pops the champagne for a restorative swig.

With a little more focus and perseverance, he finally manages to get her out of her voluminous tulle skirt, and also the white draped silk miniskirt hidden underneath.

After struggling to undo the tiny, fiddly buttons at the low back of her bodysuit, they crease into giggles as he tries to help her shimmy out of the tight, delicate fabric. "Careful!", she chides. "Just ease it up, and I'll wiggle out".

Then, stepping back, he tugs at his lips as he drinks her in, eyes raking hungrily over her body. Appreciating her white silk bustier and matching little knickers, he steps in a circle around her to drink her in.

Moonlit and entirely unaware of the effect she has on him, she distractedly picks bobby pins out of her hair as she shakes it out.

Dropping them on the bedside table along with her mum's diamond bracelet, she finally looks up.

"My goddess! I'm the luckiest bloody bastard on the planet...", he drools, stepping close to run his hands over her. "Absolutely stunning".

Now within reach, she makes short work of his last two shirt buttons, then pulls his trousers and boxers back down and off entirely.

Gently pushing Eloise back on to the bed, Harry nudges her thighs apart, then drops down to squat between them again.

Sponging open-mouthed kisses from her right kneecap, up the length of her thigh, he nuzzles at the silk garter before taking it in his teeth.

With a throaty chuckle as she squirms at the attention and the tickle of his breath hitting her core, he drags it all the way down her long leg.

Hooking it in his finger once reaching her foot, he gives it a cheeky twirl before twanging it across the room.

After a deceptively chaste kiss to her ankle, he takes her by surprise, delving straight back in.

In no time, her silk knickers follow the path of the garter.

Then, his attention falls to her final remaining garment.

With his hands and lips a chaotic swirl, demanding her attention, her writhing and squirming render the silk bustier practically obsolete anyway, with the way her chest heaves wildly as she pants for breath.

Settling down over her with his elbows planted back either side of her waist, he attends to each of the tiny hook and eye closures lining the front of her bustier in turn, teasingly slowly.

The equally languid roll of his hips into hers has a mercilessly teasing effect on their bared cores, striking up an intense slow burn.

Sliding his fingers under the unclasped silk, he peels the two halves off her to unveil his prize - finally unwrapped.

Arching her back enticingly, she lets him slide the silk from under her.

As he lowers his head to attend to her bared breasts, she drops a stroking hand to him - silky too, but hot and heavy and already straining, more than ready for another roll in the sheets.

She can't help but grin smugly - entirely aware she must be the luckiest woman alive.

>  
>

25th September 2019

Harry comes to slowly, a little discombobulated in the unfamiliar room.

Bright light streams through the shuttered doors to the terrace, and he'd hazard a guess that it's at least late morning. They'd still been going at it at 3am, so are more than deserving of a good sleep and late start.

Craning his head up from his pillow, he looks across the bedroom and takes in the fluffy heap of white and pale blue piled on the chaise longue, and the opened bottle of champagne alongside his watch and phone on the nightstand.

Shit, that all really happened.

A disbelieving, dimpled grin stretches across his face as he settles back down.

With Eloise still fast asleep alongside him, he can feel the fluttering of her slow exhales tickling his neck.

Lolling his head on his pillow towards her, he finds her lying on her side, facing him.

He's surprised to find her make-up free and with her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She must have been up at some point whilst he was out cold.

Drinking in the enticing golden tan of her skin and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, his gaze falls on her left hand, tucked cutely under her chin, with her wrist bent at its usual awkward angle.

Noticing her rings, sparkling in the morning sunlight, has his grin stretching wider. He's glad he urged her to get the full diamond eternity band. Truth be told, he was all for anything that would draw the eye - keen for maximum awareness of her being taken, by him.

They really do suit her elegant hands. Nestled there, together, for less than twenty-four hours so far, it feels like they belong - like they've always been there.

Peeling his gaze higher, he takes his time to drink her in. She gets bashful and squirmy if he attempts it when she's awake, so he's always grateful for the opportunity, whenever he wakes up before her.

She has a serene little smile on her face, but he can see the movement of her eyes below her lids, and can't resist leaning forward to drop a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. "Sweet dreams, baby", he whispers.

Careful not to jostle the bed and risk disturbing her, he eases carefully on to his back.

Lifting his left hand, he stares at his own ring for a beat. He loves the way it looks and how it feels, but, even more, he loves everything it represents.

He makes another vow - a silent one this time - promising to be the husband she deserves, every single day.

>

Dropping his hand to his lay splayed over his heart, he lets his eyes flutter closed again and indulges in a dreamy little recap of his own - running through the vivid, precious memories of yesterday.

He doesn't get very far.

After a flutter of butterflies, recalling the sense of eager anticipation he'd felt whilst getting ready with the boys, his eyes snap open, remembering.

Dropping his right hand to his leather holdall, stashed down by the nightstand, he fumbles blindly, before eventually grasping the envelope with his fingertips.

Casting his eyes back to her, to check she's still asleep, he carefully slides out her letter.

On a deep and steadying breath, he unfolds the thick, quality paper. With a hard blink of his already slightly watery eyes, the black ink of her elegant cursive comes into focus.

Finding grounding comfort in thumbing his ring around his finger, he braves reading it again.

My darling husband (!)-

It's a lot, you know? Loving you.  
You're a lot.  
I mean, there's a whole lot to love...

Your heart - bigger and more generous than anyone's I have ever known.  
Your kindness - so innate, so pure, so wildly attractive.  
Your mind - sharp, curious, non-judgemental.  
Your charm - making everyone feel like they're the only other person in the room...   
You make me feel like I'm the only other person in the whole universe.

It's your openness, and your morals and principles.   
It's that you keep me on my toes, and call me on my shit.  
It's that you make me better - always striving to make you proud.  
It's the 'Can I kiss you's?' and the 'One day's'.  
You make my heart flutter, every time I look at you (...and something else too!)

It's your body - strong, comforting, giving.  
It's your face - chiselled angles and lines so beautifully handsome, but also endlessly, endearingly expressive and warm... Every scrunch of your nose, and every pout and quirk and tug of your lips, has me enthralled.   
It's when you smirk, and when you blush - and how sometimes I can even make you do both at the same time.  
It's your eyes - a million shades of green, and somehow each and every one becomes my very favourite colour.   
It's that mouth, and everything you can do with it - from sweet nothings and sweet music, to that thing you do...  
It's those incredible hands, and everything you can do with them - from the purest of melodies to the dirtiest of tricks... And how you run them through those curls - so irresistibly tuggable!

It's your sweater paws, and the way you tie the strings of your hoodies.  
It's the wardrobe of Gucci, but how you'll wear each scuzzy pair of Vans to death.  
It's the showman, and the shy man.   
It's frontman Harry, and superstar Harry, and actor Harry, and CEO Harry, and every other version of you that you wow the world with...   
But, God, it's protective H, and sexy H, and cuddly H, and goofy H, and every other incredible side of you - especially the ones reserved only for me.

You are an enigma to me, a dichotomy.  
It's all the big things, but it's more all the little things - all your curves and edges and tiny imperfections - that make you just who you are, on top of all that you are...   
The fine lines and the interplay of all these facets of you will always be eternally fascinating to me.   
How lucky am I? To get a lifetime to explore each and every part of you?  
I see you, all of you.

It's you, Harry...   
It's always been you.   
It will always be you.   
All of you.

You're it for me.  
All that you are, all that you can be, and all that you will be.  
My future and everything in it.

I suspect that, alongside husband, your most accomplished role of all will be being a father.   
I can only hope that we will be blessed with the children you so deserve - some how, some way, some day.   
I cannot wait to grow old with you, and watch them grow older with you.

I so appreciate that I'm the luckiest girl in the world to get to call you mine, and I vow to be thankful and live up to that honour, every single day, for the rest of our lives.  
So how about we make 'one day', 'day one'?

I love you, Harry, so very much.  
All yours, always yours,  
Eloise xxx

>

Stirring gently awake, Eloise flutters her sleepy blue eyes open slowly.

As it clears, her vision fills immediately with Harry - lying on his back alongside her, reading intently.

She recognises her letter immediately.

Ordinarily, him pouring over her words would have her squirming and running a mile, but the expression on his face and the tears pooling along his lash line keep her pinned to the spot.

She keeps still and quiet, gazing intently up at his side profile as he finishes reading.

With a shaky exhale, and a few tears spilling, she sees him swallow thickly. Twisting to place the letter on his nightstand, he rolls back and presses the heel of his palms to his eyes.

Reaching up, she interlaces her left hand with his, making him jump in surprise.

"Sorry, baby", she whispers softly. "I didn't mean for that to upset you".

He sucks in a ragged breath, pulling their joined hands to his mouth to rain kisses over the first bit of her he can reach.

"I'm not upset", he bubbles a wet laugh. "I'm overwhelmed, and madly in love, and the luckiest man alive".

He rolls on to his side and tugs her into his arms. "Can you kiss me baby? I need you to kiss me".

She doesn't hesitate to oblige.

>

Nuzzling his face into her neck, Harry breathes her in as she cords her fingers through his tousled curls.

"We should get up...", she suggests softly. She has no idea what time it is, but, from the strength and angle of the sun filtering through the shutters, assumes it must be getting on for midday.

Pulling back, affronted, he pops up on an elbow, frowning down at her. "We absolutely should not!", he scoffs in indignation.

"We have guests!", she protests.

"We've had guests for the best part of a week now! They can piss off, this is our time".

"Harry!", she scolds with a playful shove to his shoulder.

"What? Don't 'Harry' me... I'm not kidding, babe".

"But they'll know exactly what we're up to-".

"Of course they bloody do! And I couldn't care less-".

She cuts him off with an exasperated scoff of her own. "What, are you going to keep me locked in here all day, like some sex slave?".

"I didn't say that... If you behave yourself, you can venture out to the private walled terrace and plunge pool", he smirks, nodding his head towards the door to the terrace. "As long as you're naked, I won't complain too much!".

"Oh, my God, you're incorrigible!", she pushes him back and rolls on top of him.

"Well, what about Niall and Malin? Aren't you dying to find out what happened there?", she waggles her eyebrows inquisitively.

He rolls his eyes, "That's been a slow burn for years now... It can wait, trust me". He flicks his palm, flippantly, before dropping it to her bum.

"You know, I've got a hunch that it's the right time for them now...", she babbles, unperturbed by his actions.

He only ups the ante.

Rolling them across the strewn bedsheets again, he ends up draped over her. "Well this is our time, alright? 'Day one', remember?". Punctuating his words, he trails eager kisses up her neck, in rhythm with playful flexes of his hips into hers.

True to form, he soon has her giggling and entirely distracted.

The end

A/N: So that’s it... I’m feeling emotional! I really hope you’ve enjoyed the ride?  
There will be an epilogue - just three final chapters... '13 | Ever ours'.   
Xx


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